Welcome to the Night
by SocialDegenerate
Summary: Alternate Universe; Gojyo is a prostitute working in a club. Sanzo is a mysterious man he picks up one night. Everyone knows that you shouldn't mix business with pleasure...
1. Chapter 1: We Meet

Gojyo twisted across the dance floor, the loud music invading his senses and the smoky atmosphere seeming more natural to him than the fresh air outside. Nobody was biting tonight, even though there were plenty of appreciative faces in the crowd.

Slipping between the gyrating bodies, the redhead made sure that he was as visible as possible; an easy task when his very presence seemed to draw people's attention like moths to a light. A pair of muscled, undeniably male arms slipped around his waist and Gojyo made his usual move, raising his left hand to run it through his hair. He waited for one of the hands to move to his wrist, to touch the gold and emerald bracelet clasped there as a silent signal; but the familiar contact never came. Gojyo sighed softly and disentangled the anonymous hands from his body, sliding away to continue his rounds.

That was how it worked; if a person didn't know the code, they weren't worth Gojyo's time. The bracelet on his arm was the only thing that distinguished him from all the people packed into the club who were there for pleasure; Gojyo was in the club for work, the same as he was every Friday and Saturday night.

He blended in well with the flashy club crowd, dressed in a silver vest that ended long before the start of his pants; black leather trousers that moulded to his ass without clinging too much to his calves. They were both colours that offset his tanned skin and vibrant hair, and the sleeveless shirt had the added effect of making the gold accessory blindingly obvious to anyone who knew its true meaning.

Moving to stand by the bar, hoping that his luck would pick up over there, Gojyo scanned the darkened room. Here and there he could spot others like him, the women and a few men who worked for the owner of the club, giving those in the know a little more bang for their buck.

Each and every one of them was for sale, their barcodes hanging from their wrists like Gojyo, or their ears, or their necks. On the surface, L'Amour was an innocuous club, all above board; but its appearance was deceitful because in the end, it was just a well-disguised brothel. That was why the jewellery code was necessary, allowing the club owner-slash-pimp to hide his illegal trade in plain sight.

Gojyo desperately wanted a drink, but the boss had a strict ban on drunken whores and so the bartenders knew not to serve the workers. It'd been a long time since he'd worked a night in the club without picking up a john, but the redhead knew that he needed every cent he could get. He _had_ to find someone tonight, even if it meant venturing into the street. It was the last resort, and exponentially more risky than staying in the club, but there wasn't much time before the men out cruising for sex would throw it in for the night.

Straightening his shirt, Gojyo began to pick his way through the crowd again, aiming for the exit. He stopped short, though, when he felt someone loosely grab hold of his wrist, fingers coming to rest over the emerald-studded bracelet. Gojyo set his face in a seductive smile, turning towards his latest buyer while hoping like Hell that it wasn't some sort of creep. There were too many people who just didn't know the difference between a higher-class hooker and a sex slave.

But when the redhead came face-to-face with his client, he found himself vaguely wondering whether he should be the one paying the money; the man before him was the single most gorgeous human that Gojyo had ever laid his distinctive red eyes on.

* * *

Sanzo lurked in a dark corner of the club, sitting at a table by himself with his arm resting over the back of his chair and a cigarette dangling from his lips. His vantage point allowed him to survey almost all of the room at once, without drawing too much attention to himself. It was annoying, having to constantly fend off overly forward, incredibly drunk women _and_ men who seemed determined to get into the irritable man's pants.

He wouldn't even _be_ in this stupid place if his employer wasn't such a pedantic son of a bitch. Why he had to report on the inner workings of the business, Sanzo had no idea. The blonde didn't want to be some sort of clichéd private investigator; that wasn't in his job description, dammit...not that one found advertisements for a job like his in the local newspaper.

A man dressed in a disgustingly tacky pair of gold pants pulled away from the crowd on the dance floor, taking a few steps in Sanzo's direction. A venomous glare made the unlucky guy look like he might have pissed himself, and Sanzo drew on his cigarette, letting the smoke out into the room with a sigh of irritation. Just because his features were a little too feminine, his bone structure a little too fragile-looking, didn't mean that he was willing to be anyone's bitch.

The blonde had no interest in being approached, and certainly no interest in waking up next to someone in the morning. The thought of letting _anyone_ get that close was…sickening.

And yet…every few minutes, as his eyes wandered around the club, taking in the atmosphere, the people and the mechanics of the business, he found himself repeatedly watching one person who kept ducking in and out of view.

From his sources, Sanzo knew about the club's secondary function; he was almost amazed at the sheer number of prostitutes inside the place, none of them looking at all like the tired, used-up hookers that one usually saw. They were all young, vibrant and exceptionally good-looking…especially one of them, who by comparison made almost everyone else in the room look like gaudy trash.

It was this man that Sanzo kept finding his attention drawn to, watching the flashes of red and silver as that lean body moved fluidly through the crowd as if he was water flowing down a stream. He'd noticed fairly quickly that the object of his interest had a tell-tale piece of green and gold jewellery on; it was clear that the redhead was trying to show his bracelet off as much as possible, without being obnoxious or suspicious about it.

Sanzo kept reminding himself that he was at the club for business, nothing else; and he kept telling himself, '_five more minutes, then I'm going home. That pedantic bastard can go fuck himself if he thinks I'm going to give him anything more in-depth than what I've seen already.' _But again and again, a couple of minutes would pass, Sanzo would be about to go, the redheaded prostitute would come into view again, and the blonde would forget every intention he had to leave.

Tonight, his mind wasn't even bothering to come up with a half-baked excuse for its odd behaviour. All his brain was telling him was that he _had_ to go over there and drag the man off to a secluded area, which was quite different to its usual approach of 'deny the fact that Sanzo, the great emotionless prick, actually has human desires'.

He had no issue with the fact that the man was a professional; that was actually preferable, because whores didn't expect a call back the next day and didn't get lippy if they wanted to be paid.

All thoughts of the fact that he was working were lost when he saw the prostitute push off from where he was leaning against the bar, presumably heading for the door. Sanzo hurriedly crushed out his fourth cigarette for the night into the ashtray, picking up a quick pace while stepping around reaching hands and wobbling drunks.

Falling into line behind the departing man, Sanzo vaguely wondered just what the Hell he was doing even as his hand reached out to grab the other's wrist. He wasn't supposed to give into his cravings; he'd gotten the name 'Sanzo', like a Buddhist priest, from his ability to ignore the needs of his body and shun human connections, after all.

So why was he about to proposition a whore?

It was too late to back out, as the arm in his grip twisted and the redhead turned to face him.

Seeing the man close up, Sanzo noticed that he wasn't quite perfect; his white teeth weren't totally aligned, his startling red eyes _must've_ been contacts, and there were two parallel scars running across his cheek. But for some unknown reason, these slight flaws only served to make his seductive expression more attractive.

The arm not in his grip came to rest over Sanzo's shoulder, long fingers beginning to lightly play with the ends of his blonde hair. The whore didn't say anything, and Sanzo realised that he hadn't quite sealed the deal.

He raised his hand between their bodies, bringing the redhead's up with it. His thumb played over an emerald in the bracelet, and the fingers in his hair made heat begin to pool in the lower section of his stomach. Usually, his hair was off-limits to everybody, but there was something about the way the taller man teased the light strands that felt…natural.

Noticing uncertainty flash into the redhead's eyes, Sanzo was quick to lean in and speak up. He didn't want the strikingly good-looking prostitute to walk away, as he'd seen the man do just minutes earlier to some over-muscled dickhead.

"Nice bracelet. Where…?" He intentionally let the question trail off, knowing that the darkly-tanned man would know what he meant. Sanzo wasn't sure if he detected a _purring_ sound in his voice, and it was a little disconcerting to feel his body react so strongly to someone who sucked and fucked for a living.

Sanzo was somewhat glad that he was pretty much entirely unable to form emotional attachments. Otherwise, this could have gotten _very_ tricky.

* * *

Internally, Gojyo was intensely relieved when the blonde _god_ of a man who grabbed his wrist was an actual buyer. He'd been a little worried when the man hadn't spoken up, and it wouldn't be the first time that someone had grabbed his wrist without actually realising what that meant. But then again…Hell, Gojyo would probably have slept with this particular guy for free.

He didn't think that he'd have any trouble performing tonight whatsoever.

Externally, Gojyo simply kept smiling and tilted his head to the side, indicating to a well-hidden door towards the back of the club. He turned and started to walk over to it, the hand still around his wrist indicating that the blonde was following.

The pair got to the back wall and Gojyo made eye contact with a suited-up man standing off to the side, silently telling the guard to put in the code to unlock the door. A slight nod from the man in the suit had Gojyo pressing the door open and gently pulling his john through it. Out of the corner of his eye, the redhead saw the guard giving the shorter man a good once-over, taking in any distinctive details just in case _something_ happened.

After working the streets for years, it was almost nice to know that someone was willing to put in the time to ensure that Gojyo got paid properly and didn't die. Before he'd come to work at the club, only one person had shown even the slightest interest in keeping Gojyo alive; that person was long gone. To where, Gojyo didn't have the faintest idea. He could have been anywhere in the world, if he wasn't already dead.

The sound of the music almost completely disappearing brought Gojyo back to the present. The second half of the building, comprised almost exclusively of rooms with little else other than a moderately clean bed in them, was fairly well soundproofed. It worked both ways; the music was only faint, and it was a complete turn-off for some people to hear others having sex, so the occupants of each room were free to be as loud as they wanted, without disturbing anyone else.

It was a fairly tight little setup that the boss ran.

The first three rooms along the dimly lit hallway had their doors closed, indicating that not too many of the others had managed to pick up today; usually at least six of the doors were closed at any one time.

The second door on the left side was open, so Gojyo turned back towards the blonde man, beckoning towards him and moving backwards through the open door.

A single lightbulb swung from the ceiling, allowing Gojyo to take a proper look at his buyer. His first instinct was correct; the man in front of him truly was beyond anyone else the redhead had ever seen in real life. Dressed in fitted, low-slung black jeans and a button-down shirt undone to reveal the top of a well-toned chest, Gojyo had to wonder if he was awake or still dreaming.

He'd serviced ugly men, violent men, absolutely fucking _repulsive_ men; but it had been a long time since he'd been taken by someone who was better looking than himself.

It had also been a long time since he'd actually been looking forward to his work.

The blonde walked into the room, using his foot to push the door shut. There was no lock; safety issues, apparently. It made sense to Gojyo.

The redhead pulled down the zipper on his vest, pushing it off his shoulders as his skin broke out in goosebumps from the slightly chilly air. Without the press of bodies, it was getting cold. He could feel the blonde's eyes on him, tracing the bare skin down to the top of the leather pants, sitting so low on his hips that the slightest jolt might just expose the taller man's pubic hair.

So naturally, in a dance he'd performed many times before, he added a swing to his hips as he walked to the corner of the room, encouraging his pants to fall ever so slightly down. Gojyo grabbed a couple of condoms, tissues and small foil packages of lube from the small table in the corner, slipping them into his pockets. When he turned back to face the man now leaning against the closed door he heard the slightest hitch of breath, which in turn caused his own cock to wake up as he saw the open look of lust directed straight at his very nearly exposed groin.

Gojyo dropped one hand to his hip, letting his thumb slide under his waistband just to the left of the catch and zipper. He ran the end of his tongue across his top lip, dropping the tone of his voice to a soft, sexy drawl. "How do you want me, gorgeous?"

Yeah, it was all part of the job, but Gojyo couldn't stop himself from thinking, '_Maybe…is this as good as what a __**true**__ seduction would feel like?'_

He'd been on the streets most of his life; he'd never had sex for anything other than money, or food, or a place to stay. Well…not consensual sex…

"_Don't_ call me anything like that." There was heat in the smaller man's voice, but Gojyo wasn't worried. He'd heard much worse, and there was nothing in the other man's demeanour to suggest that he was about to get violent. Then again, it was often the unassuming ones who were the meanest, the kinkiest, the most depraved.

The blonde man straightened up, giving the bed a disparaging look. Gojyo caught the vaguely disgusted expression and was quick to reassure the man. "Don't worry, it's all clean. But if you'd rather not, then there are plenty of other options…"

He watched the fully-dressed man give the room a measured look, weighing up his options. When he turned his face back to Gojyo, the redhead noticed for the first time that the other man's eyes were a striking shade of purple. Coloured contacts, probably. A bored voice sounded out, but its effect was negated by the desire in those strange eyes. "Lube me up, and then…up against the wall."

Gojyo winked, unclasping his own pants and shimmying his hips to make the tight material ease over his ass and erect cock. Underwear was generally unnecessary in his profession; it just got in the way. He'd also learnt pretty quickly that it was easier to get his own pants out of the way _before_ getting his hands covered in lube.

Stepping out of the pants as gracefully as he could manage, he squatted down to retrieve the small packages from his pocket, bent legs spreading wide to expose himself fully to the standing man. Gojyo wasn't entirely sure whether he actually heard a faint groan, or if he was just imagining things. He hoped it was the former; the idea of turning this beautiful man on was making Gojyo harder.

He was slightly surprised when he heard footsteps and the other man's legs moved into his line of sight; Gojyo was used to doing everything while the other person simply waited to be pleasured. Staying in his squatting position, the redhead put the edge of a condom wrapper between his teeth, ripping it open with practiced ease. With his free hand he reached for the black jeans in front of him, feeling the bulge there with his palm while his fingers slipped open the button and the zipper. A pair of blue briefs kept the erection covered, and Gojyo could have sworn that his fingers were almost _shaking_ as they reached to pull the blue material as far down as possible while the jeans were still mostly on.

That was a reaction he hadn't had in a _lot_ of years.

Pushing the material out of the way, Gojyo's dick jumped when the other man's was exposed to the light. It wasn't as long as his own but it was thicker, curving ever so slightly and elegant in a way that Gojyo didn't know a cock could be. The redhead swallowed hard, feeling himself becoming almost painfully hard and damn near _needing_ the other man inside of him.

There was something about this, this single time with this anonymous, mysterious man, that was…_different_ to every other time.

Pulling the condom out of the open packet, Gojyo rolled it over the blonde's cock, seeing a slight shudder run through the man's entire body at the action. He had to see more of that; tearing open the lubricant, the crouching man quickly squeezed the slippery stuff out onto his palm, not wasting any time in taking the other man between his fingers.

"…_Fuck_…Hurry it up, Red…" The words may have been harsh, but the tone was fucking _close_ to begging. Gojyo complied, squeezing the rest of the lube directly onto the man's cock and quickly spreading it around as best he could. Satisfied, he rose to his feet, moving across to the wall and laying his slick palms flat against it. The redhead arched his back, compensating for the height difference between him and his slightly shorter partner. He shook his head back, letting long hair spill across the top of his bare back, tickling the skin.

Hands clenched around his hips, and Gojyo found it easier than usual to make his body relax before being penetrated. He couldn't help but moan when the slick, condom-covered cock first began to enter his unprepared hole; he'd been ready for the man to be rough and fast, but for whatever reason he was taking his time, minimizing Gojyo's pain to a dull stinging.

Knowing that he could handle more, Gojyo pressed back, sheathing the blonde all the way to the hilt. The feel of soft cotton against his back and denim against his thighs was strangely erotic, making his dick throb, but Gojyo didn't dare move his hands away from the wall unless the blonde initiated.

The other man began to move, quickly building up a fast pace that had Gojyo moaning with true pleasure. Whether it was intended or not, the cock inside him was sliding against his prostate every few thrusts, making the redhead lean against the wall more and more for support. It was getting harder for him to keep his hands off himself, but it wasn't worth the risk of angering the man; Gojyo had no idea if the blonde would actually object, but his instincts were telling him not to do anything without permission.

When one of the hands still on his waist moved away and re-settled over one of the tanned hands against the exposed brick, Gojyo took it as the long-awaited signal to take himself in hand. When the other hand stayed over his, even as it moved, the redhead was surprised; but that was nothing compared to how he felt when the delicate, pale fingers wrapped around his neglected cock alongside his own hand.

Not that Gojyo was objecting; the sensation of that other hand was almost enough to make him spill all over the wall, and he had to focus on breathing properly to ensure that he didn't come to quickly. Very few people wanted a whore that spurted quickly, and besides, Gojyo didn't want this to end.

He felt like his legs were going to give out, the feeling of the other man inside him almost too much. And, if the panting from behind him was any indication, the blonde was definitely getting his money's worth.

The hand around his dick sped up, encouraging his own hand to quicken its pace. All too soon, he felt the man's thrusts become erratic in a sure sign that he was coming, and so Gojyo focused all his attention on bringing about his own orgasm so that his muscle spasms would heighten his buyer's pleasure.

With a loud curse, Gojyo felt his entire body tighten as he came, spilling his seed against the wall and the hands still rubbing his cock. Teeth bit down on his shoulder as his passage clamped tightly, forcing an orgasm from the blonde man inside him. _That_ was gonna leave a mark, but Gojyo felt like…like it was a reminder of one of the only times he'd ever truly _enjoyed_ sex.

Using the hand still pressed into the wall, Gojyo leant his forearm against the bricks, resting his face against it to catch his breath. The man behind him slowly began to pull out, making Gojyo hiss from the feeling. Knowing that his duty wasn't quite done, the redhead turned and forced his legs to stay straight, reaching one hand down to slip the condom off the shorter man.

Gojyo tied the end of the used latex, tossing it in the general direction of the small rubbish bin. Carefully handling still-sensitive flesh, he bent to grab a tissue and cleaned the other man off before tucking him in and refastening his jeans. The movements seemed to rouse the blonde from a vague orgasmic afterglow, clearing the haze out of his eyes and making his features harden slightly.

In a gruff voice, the blonde questioned somewhat brusquely, "How much?" He reached for the wallet in the back pocket of his jeans, knowing that he had enough cash in there to cover several expensive hookers.

Gojyo had no idea exactly what possessed him to say what he did next.

He knew the boss would be furious, and probably expect a blowjob or three to make up for it, but Gojyo grabbed the other man's arm before he could retrieve his wallet. Smirking attractively, the tall man shook his head. "Don't worry about it…this one's on the house, Blondie."

And as the other man stood there staring uncomprehendingly, Gojyo steered him towards the door and back out into the corridor, leaving one very confused man in the hallway and one blissed-out guy dropping down onto the bed to wonder exactly why he'd just given up what would have been a very high pay.

* * *

The next afternoon, Sanzo was being sent all over town by his employer to run any number of completely ridiculous jobs. He was grumpier than usual; something that one of the braver men he'd spoken with that morning had mentioned. That person was now sporting an attractive black eye.

Sanzo knew why he was grumpy, even though he refused to admit it. It was because as he walked up and down the city streets, he kept laying his eyes on any number of redheaded men; but that one's hair was too orange, that one's too short, and that one's nowhere _near_ as shiny as the hair of the whore he'd picked up last night. But then again; if you didn't have to pay, did it still count as prostitution? Sanzo didn't think so, and as such he had no idea why the man hadn't requested payment.

It had been bothering him all day, and with every passing minute he was getting more and more homicidal. He couldn't free his mind from the trap that the redhead had lured him into.

When his head perked up at the sight of yet another crimson-haired person, only to find his anger rising when the figure was clearly female, Sanzo gave in. Stepping into the nearest alley, he pulled out his cell phone and dialled a number he knew off by heart. As soon as a familiar voice sounded out in a decidedly unenthusiastic greeting, Sanzo launched in. "Get me a list of all the hookers working at L'Amour, the club owned by that Banri prick. With physical descriptions, and _fast_. E-mail it to me."

He didn't bother waiting for a reply, knowing that the guy on the other end of the phone would ask questions that Sanzo didn't want to answer. Hanging up, the blonde leaned back against the filthy wall of the alley.

Once he had a name to put to the face, he could get the man off his mind. He was Sanzo, the man without feelings, for _fuck's_ sake! His mind had no right to be fixating on some nameless whore who wasn't even smart enough to get paid.

Once he knew who he'd fucked, he would move on.

…Hopefully.

* * *

*******A few quick things: This story was written around a character, that character being Gojyo the prostitute. Where did this Whore Gojyo come from? Well, he was inspired by the Turbonegro song, "Sell Your Body (To the Night)", which was also where the name of this fic came from.

Also, after much umm-ing and ahh-ing, this AU fic is set (*Bandit Keith voice*) in America. That fact will have little or no bearing on the story at all; it just seemed like a logical place to stick these particular versions of the Saiyuki boys. China and India seemed wrong, and although I could've thrown them into the middle of King's Cross in Sydney or something, it just would've been _weird_.

So after all that, I hope you've enjoyed the first chapter of this fic! More will be coming when I feel like it, I guess!*******


	2. Chapter 2: We Clash

Gojyo sighed as he crawled into his bed, glad that it was the ridiculously early hours of Sunday morning, which meant that he had a whole day ahead of him to just sleep and laze around. His working clothes were thrown messily onto the carpeted floor of his bedroom, looking completely in place with the other assorted junk also residing there.

For him it had been a relatively early night, because he hadn't stuck around to finish his shift after the blonde man had left the back rooms of the club. '_Well, I was already gonna be royally fucked for handing out freebies, why bother staying? Besides, it's not like anyone else could possibly measure up to…'_

Gojyo spread out on his back, hands folded beneath his head. Physically, he was exhausted; worn-out and vaguely sated, just as he usually was after work. Mentally, though, he couldn't get his brain to shut up.

Earlier, he'd had consensual sex _without_ getting anything material in return, for the very first time. The immediate thought struck Gojyo that, in a manner of speaking, he may have just truly lost his virginity. He gave a fairly humourless laugh at the concept.

The idea was unnerving, to say the least. He'd been a 'professional' for eight years, even though he was only twenty-two years old. Before that there'd been a few people, but…none of those encounters particularly deserved to be remembered.

Sometimes, Gojyo couldn't help but wonder how much he'd repressed over his life, and whether it was all going to come flooding back one day. He really, _really_ hoped that it never did.

He couldn't get the image of the gorgeous stranger out of his head, along with the sensations of hands on his skin, of breath heating the back of his neck and of being thrust against the wall…

Gojyo felt himself getting hard, but was too tired to be bothered doing something about it. He couldn't stop himself from having a mental argument about whether he was an idiot, a fool or both at once. He also kept going back over _why_ he hadn't demanded payment…it was all too much.

Reaching over to his bed stand, Gojyo opened the draw and fossicked around for a moment, feeling for a familiar cylinder. Fingers clasping around the bottle, he drew it out and tossed the sleeping pills beside him as his hand went to the floor to grab a half-empty bottle of water that he knew would be down there somewhere.

Retrieving the water, he shook out a couple of pills, quickly washing them down and making a face at the taste of the slightly stale liquid. Rolling onto his side, Gojyo idly traced patterns on his sheets with his fingers and tried not to think until the pills began to kick in.

He would deal with the fallout tomorrow…if he felt like it.

* * *

It was well after two in the afternoon when Gojyo surfaced once again in the outside world. It would have been later if not for the fact that he'd completely run out of cigarettes; he cursed himself for the habit sometimes, but usually he was just glad that he'd so far avoided becoming one of the many whores he'd known who had died of overdoses, most often meth or heroin.

The only reason for that was because when Gojyo was eight, his brother Jien had told him never to go near drugs. If he'd gotten the lecture from _anyone_ else, the redhead would probably have tried every drug he could get his hands on out of spite; but because it had been his older brother, whom Gojyo worshipped like a god, the young man had stayed clean from the illegal shit for his entire life.

It was a warm day, and Gojyo let the sun do its work to darken his skin, glad that it was summer and he could save on tanning salons. What could he say, pale just wasn't a good look for him!

He could already feel the sun killing his skin, arms bare with the dark singlet he wore. A long time ago, someone had warned him that he was going to end up with skin cancer; Gojyo didn't care, realising that his chances of living to middle age were already pretty slim. Between the possibility of skin cancer, lung cancer, a nasty disease or Hell, even just random violence, a long life wasn't really a probable outcome in his life.

Right now, though, he simply didn't care about all of that. Gojyo was just walking down the street, ignoring all thoughts of the night before and instead concentrating on the vague ache for nicotine running through his body; he wasn't even focused on his surroundings.

There weren't many people walking the street down in this particular area of town, with most residents of the city's 'bad' area still passed out from a big Saturday night. As such, no one noticed when the tall redhead was suddenly pulled into an alley with an undignified yelp.

As his back was slammed into the filthy wall, Gojyo cursed himself for being caught off-guard. That was the sort of thing that got people killed; _especially_ people like him. Then his vision refocused and it occurred to him that he was looking slightly down into a narrowed, furious, but most of all _familiar_ pair of violet eyes.

Struck to the core, the only thing that Gojyo could think to do was make a joke out of the situation and try to disguise his sudden shock.

"Well hey there, Blondie! I know that you seem to like having me pushed up against walls and all, but Sunday's my day off. You're gonna have to find yourself someone else to-…"

"Shut the fuck up, idiot!" The pure anger in the blonde's voice made Gojyo slightly nervous; still, that was nothing compared to the sheer dread he felt when something hard and metal pressed into his side.

Flicking his eyes downwards, Gojyo saw the glint of sunlight off a silver gun; it was only a small one, but a gun was a gun. He made a conscious effort to keep his mouth shut, like the fuming man had ordered.

The blonde man still held the front of Gojyo's shirt with his free hand, using his grip to hold the redhead against the wall. The man might have been short and thin-looking, but _damn,_ he was strong. Even though he was being attacked in an alley at gunpoint by a customer, Gojyo couldn't help but admire the other man's strength. The aura of danger produced by that strength and the gun just added to the attractiveness of the blonde, and a vague thought flittered through Gojyo's mind, telling him, '_If he wants to go __**there**__, then I don't think that I'd say it would be rape, per se…'_

He mentally shook himself, berating his mind for thinking about sex when he had a gun being pushed into his side by a stranger. Just because the man had a pretty face didn't mean that everything _else_ was working quite right upstairs.

"What the _fuck_ gave you the right to…to…to do what you _did_ last night?" The blonde was hissing his words so violently that it was a miracle that Gojyo wasn't being soaked in saliva; not that a little spit was the greatest of his worries right now.

Gojyo didn't know if the question was rhetorical or not, but he hoped that it was. He had no idea what the _insane _blonde was on about, and he felt no real urge to be shot on such a nice day. What he'd done last night...was that meant to be the sex, the freebie, or some other thing that Gojyo didn't even know he'd done? Luckily, the blonde spoke again.

"Did you think that I couldn't _afford_ you? Is your opinion of yourself really that _**high**_?"

In a normal situation, Gojyo would have started laughing at this point; the blonde had taken his free roll as some sort of insult, when it was actually…Well, Gojyo wasn't exactly sure what it had meant. But because he currently had a gun pressed against his stomach, the redhead chose not to crack up laughing or even fight back, just in case the shorter man had an itchy trigger finger.

"Woah, woah, it was nothing like that, man. Look, I don't know why I did it, but it definitely wasn't supposed to offend you. Just take the compliment, okay?" Gojyo held his hands up, palms flat, trying to tell the other man that he didn't want any trouble. '_Merciful fuckin' Goddess, try to be nice to someone and what d'they do? Assault you on the street and try to shoot you…fucking Hell…'_

Gojyo flinched slightly when the purple eyes glared even more dangerously, wondering if he'd somehow just screwed up again. He didn't realise that he was holding his breath until the pain in his side lifted away, and he exhaled deeply. Red eyes watched the hand with the gun move back towards the blonde, the other hand still twisted in his singlet.

Relaxing fractionally when the gun was tucked back inside the waist of the blonde's jeans, Gojyo was still wary as he watched the other man digging around inside his pocket. Judging by how the confrontation had gone so far, Gojyo wouldn't have been surprised if the man had pulled out a bloody grenade or something equally as ridiculous.

He didn't expect the man to come out with a wad of money, held together by a clip. He stiffened instinctively when said cash was stuffed directly into the pocket of his own pants, accompanied by another hard shove into the wall. It hurt like a bitch, but Gojyo wasn't in the habit of letting other people know when he was weakened. That never helped anyone stay alive on the streets.

"Take your money, you goddamned _whore_. It was _business_, nothing else." With that, the hand holding Gojyo's shirt uncomfortably tight let go, and the blonde man stalked off into the street. All Gojyo could do was watch as the man left, soon turning onto a different road and disappearing from sight.

Finally waking up to the fact that he was now alone and free to leave, Gojyo quickly pulled the bundle of money out of his pocket, flicking through the notes in a quick count. His breath caught when he saw that the blonde man had given him something between two thousand and twenty-five hundred dollars; an amount far higher than his usual rate of payment, especially for an encounter as quick as his time with the other man had been.

'_Did that psycho hunt me down just to…pay me? Oh well, I guess that I can't say that I got nothing in return for last night…guess I'm a 'virgin' all over again!'_

Shaking his head, Gojyo brushed off his shirt and moved back into the street, wondering whether he would ever see the blonde man again.

* * *

Sanzo felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders as he went back to his day of being an errand boy, not bothered by the fact that he'd just given away a substantial amount of money. He'd just hung up from his phone call to his contact, and had been just about to go on his way when yet another redheaded man had come into view; this time, though, it had been the _right_ redhead.

Before he'd even realised what he was doing, Sanzo had reached out and dragged the man into the alley, drawing his gun and bitching the guy out. An overreaction? Maybe…No. Certainly not. That hooker had to be taught his place. There needed to be money involved…otherwise, it went from a business transaction to…_something else._

And if there was one thing that Sanzo had spent the second half of his life avoiding, it was that 'something else'.

Deciding that he'd thought quite enough on that particular issue, Sanzo worked on blanking his mind as he walked down the street away from the alley. He had work to do, and no streetwalking bitch was going to distract him from that. Not even one that good-looking…

Sanzo's teeth began to grind as he became completely furious with his mind. He nearly missed the feel of his phone buzzing in his pocket, and he answered it with a snapped "What?"

"Get your ass back here, Sanzo. I wanna hear what you found out last night." The sound of his boss' voice over the phone didn't improve Sanzo's mood, and for one brief, irrational moment he didn't know what the man on the other end of the line meant; was the older man contemplating scheduling a round with the redheaded whore for himself? Then, though, Sanzo remembered why he'd been sent to the club in the first place. His boss just wanted to hear his intel.

"Ch', whatever." Sanzo didn't waste words, immediately hanging up. Running a hand through his hair, he groped inside his pocket and pulled out a cigarette and lighter. Setting the end of the tobacco alight, he took a deep puff and then turned around, heading for the boss' office.

* * *

Upon entering the building, Sanzo didn't bother acknowledging the secretary seated behind the desk, a young woman with long hair that was dyed a deep shade of purpleish-blue. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her press a button and quietly speak a few words into her intercom, no doubt announcing his arrival to the boss. Job done, she turned back to a man standing before the desk, continuing the conversation that Sanzo's arrival had interrupted.

Sanzo recognised the man, and had to repress a slight shudder. He'd worked with that guy before, and there was something about him that was vaguely scary. He was a little too…_polite_ for someone in their line of work, and that was unsettling to most people, especially because it was rumoured that he could snap violently if pushed, almost as if he was bipolar. Still, Sanzo had to admit that the man, who went by the name of Hakkai, was exceptionally good at what he did.

Reaching the elevator, Sanzo was glad that it was already sitting at the ground floor. He had better things to do than stand here in the foyer all day.

It didn't take long for him to reach the fourth floor, where his boss had his office. Everything in the building screamed professionalism, which was necessary to maintain the illusion that this was simply an ordinary workplace. While walking the fourth floor hallways, Sanzo passed several people who were clearly there to operate the legal side of the business contained in the building; he didn't know exactly what it was that they did, and he really didn't care.

Pushing open the door to the main office, Sanzo nearly walked straight into some minor-level lackey, who jumped to the side in fright and began apologising profusely. Sanzo didn't even look in the man's direction, instead moving straight to sit across the desk from his boss.

There weren't many people who could get away with being as impudent towards the organisation's head as Sanzo was, a dubious honour that he'd only earned because of the high standing Sanzo's adoptive father had held with the previous boss. Other people were shot for bursting into the office without warning; the blonde was merely sighed at.

"Oh, pardon my intrusion, Mr Boss Man, sir. Well that's okay, Sanzo dear boy, I did ask you here, after all. One day you're going to knock, and I might just have to shoot you on suspicion of being a fake." Sanzo glared at the other man's words, not impressed with being ridiculed.

"Lighten up, grumpy. Now, on a more serious note, how did last night go?" It always amazed Sanzo how quickly his employer could change from joking to deadly serious. He just wished that he would ditch the joking side; it would make Sanzo's life easier.

"It was…uneventful. The club seems to work just like any other, and the prostitution ring is well-hidden. It's a very good set-up." Sanzo didn't think that his boss needed to hear the other details of the night. The blonde would rather not broadcast his homosexuality; it would just lead to problems.

The other man smirked, absentmindedly twisting his fingers into his short, black hair. "So you didn't feel the need to, ah, sample any of their merchandise? C'mon, kid, you can tell me."

Sanzo glared, both at the inference and being called 'kid'. He wasn't about to inform his employer about his sex life, no matter how many times the older man had tried to ask over the years. "No, I didn't," he replied, in a tone that sounded as if it could poison a person's ears.

"Oh, well then, you're no fun. I would've been perfectly okay with you doing that, in the name of research, of course. None of their women up to your high standards, Sanzo?"

The blonde sighed and stood up. He'd had more than enough of his employer's mockery. "Is there anything else you want, Dokugakuji? I've had more than enough of you for one day. I'm out."

As Sanzo walked out the door, he heard the older man's parting comment. "You're lucky that I like you, Sanzo! People have died for being that rude to me!"

The blonde simply raised his hand above his shoulder, extending his middle finger to flip off the other man as he walked away. He wasn't entirely sure, but he may have heard Dokugakuji start laughing at his action.

'_I'm surrounded by idiots,' _Sanzo thought as he set off down the hallway again. The rest of the jobs he had been given could wait until tomorrow; right now, the blonde man needed a drink. Sure, it was mid-afternoon on a Sunday; but it was five o'clock somewhere, and that's all that mattered.

* * *

*******This chapter is a lot shorter than the first one, but this was more the length I envisioned when I started this fic. The first chapter simply got away from me, as it does. Damned sex scenes…

I watched a documentary on prostitution the other day, so now I have lots of inspiration! (And a bit more of an idea about the mechanics of prostitution, too, haha!)***


	3. Chapter 3: We Think

Sanzo pushed open the door of the dark bar, cursing the time of day and the fact that it was Sunday. The filthy place really wasn't a _welcoming_ drinking spot, and he'd only ever been there once or twice before; it just happened to be the only close dive that was open.

Signalling to the bored-looking bartender for a beer or six, Sanzo took up residence at the table closest to the back of the room, instinctive paranoia causing him to find safety in corners. He'd seen a few too many ambushes in his time, skilled people being caught in vulnerable positions and ending up dead…just like his adoptive father…

Sanzo sighed, resting his elbow on the slightly sticky table and dropping his head into his hand. He was worn-out, stressed and pissed off; the last thing he needed was to start thinking about the only person he'd ever cared about.

The sound of a bottle hitting the table startled him, the aging waitress already walking away after having delivered the beer. He had to focus, dammit; you could never tell when someone was out for your ass, and dying wasn't in Sanzo's immediate schedule. He had too much to get done.

Taking a swig from the bottle, he made a face at the cheap and nasty booze, wishing that once more it was Saturday night all over again and he could get a _decent _drink. Almost immediately, Sanzo chastised himself for that thought; '_I sure as Hell __**don't**__ want to replay last night!' _

For the best part of the last twenty-four hours, Sanzo had been repeating to himself that shacking up with that whore had been nothing more than a temporary lapse in judgement; and the only reason he couldn't get the redhead from his mind, even after paying him, was because he didn't know his identity. Sanzo had been through his fair share of paid and unpaid one-night stands over the years, so _that_ wasn't the problem; but he'd always at least had a name to put to the faces. That _had_ to be the issue.

And yet, he couldn't shut up the annoying little thoughts that wondered whether a 'temporary' lapse in judgement would last that long, and repeat itself the next day; and that told him that names weren't really all that important.

He just tried to ignore those particular thoughts, along with the memories of long red hair brushing against his uncovered neck and the feeling of pushing inside that toned, lean body…

Sanzo wanted to bang his head against the table, brutally and repeatedly. Maybe killing a few hundred million brain cells would allow him to regain control of his mind. However, as usual, he simply maintained his grumpy façade and glared at the wall.

He'd almost managed to completely clear his mind when he sensed some poor fool slipping down to sit at his table, and as he turned his head Sanzo berated himself again for not paying attention to his surroundings. He was a sitting duck in his current state, and he'd be better off just going home.

That last statement was reiterated when he took in the person now sitting at his table, grinning widely like he was inviting a bullet between the eyes. It was that mistake from last night who just wouldn't stop following him, in all his irritatingly stunning glory. Sanzo wondered if the redhead was aware of his imminent death; judging by that smile, he was.

"What the fuck do you want? Actually, I don't care. Just fuck off." Usually, Sanzo's tone of voice and the look of death in his eyes were enough to scare away any unwanted company; tonight, though, it didn't seem to be working. The redhead was still just sitting there, but his smile had melted into a smirking twist of lips. It occurred to Sanzo that the man looked like he was up to something…but _what?_

"Awww, sorry, man. You just looked so _lonely_ over here on your own that I thought I'd see if I couldn't cheer you up a bit."

Sanzo glared harder at the intruder, the false sympathy in the other man's voice nearly making his blood boil. His fingers itched to go for his gun, but he simply wrapped them around the bottle; there weren't many people in the bar at this time of the afternoon, and most of them were too drunk to notice anything anyway, but witnesses were _not_ acceptable. Jail time was another thing that didn't factor into Sanzo's schedule.

"Why are you even in here? If you start following me, I _will _kill you." Sanzo knew that he should just get up and leave, but there was an urge in him to make sure that the redhead knew he was dancing with death. It was unacceptable that a _whore_ would start making his life difficult; after all, he'd paid the bastard, so why wasn't the other man simply pissing off?

"As enchanting as you are, Mister…?" The prostitute trailed off, clearly wanting Sanzo to fill in the gap with his name. When the only reply was Sanzo's top lip curling into a snarl, the redhead shrugged. "Alright, whatever, don't bite my head off. Anyway, I wasn't following you; I actually came in for a drink and what d'ya know, who do I see but the prick who seemed to want to shoot me with his gun earlier. And not even the _good_ type of 'gun', if you get what I mean."

Sanzo did get what the taller man was implying, but by this point he was getting too tired to care. He'd had a horrible week, and just wanted to go crash. The moron to the side of him was the annoying icing on the shitty cake.

"I don't make a habit of spending time with the people I fuck, especially not hookers. If you have nothing relevant to impart, piss off." Sanzo grabbed a cigarette from the pack in his pocket, hoping that it might calm his growing rage. Otherwise, someone was going to die.

When a small flame appeared from beside him, Sanzo had to work hard to quash the tiny flicker of gratitude that he felt at the unprompted gesture. He was supposed to be royally pissed off, and there was no chance in Hell of him showing the redhead any kind of thanks, no matter how small. He had a feeling that the man would _never_ leave him alone if he did.

"Well, originally I figured that, even though you tried to kill me and all, you might've been up for a replay. I can ignore death threats if the person handing 'em out is hot like you. But it's pretty obvious that you're satisfied with just that stick up your ass." The redhead's smile grew again, and his shoulders shook a little with silent laughter. Sanzo found himself remembering why he'd been so drawn to the single figure in the crowded club, and decided that it really was time to leave before something bad went down. He'd never been to the same whore twice, and he wasn't about to sta-…wait…

"I thought you said that you didn't work today." The question was out before he could stop it, and Sanzo wondered whether that slight flicker of tenuous curiosity would be enough for the other man to pick up on. The redhead seemed like the kind of guy who could get under people's shields, and Sanzo would _not_ allow that to happen. He should've left already; he should've left five minutes ago.

The taller man's eyes widened momentarily, clearly surprised that Sanzo had actually listened to him earlier. His voice came out as a seductive drawl, his intentions painfully clear. "You're right, I'm not working today. So how about it?"

He finished off his sentence with a slow wink, and Sanzo gripped the top of the table, pushing out his chair and standing up. Was the man purposely trying to be an annoying little shit, or did it just come naturally?

Turning and walking away without a word, Sanzo didn't even make it to the door before an arm slipped over his shoulders and he felt warm breath tickling his ear. "Leaving without saying goodbye? Why, how very rude of you."

Trying to ignore the fluttering sensation in his gut at the feel of the arm around him, Sanzo stopped still, catching the redhead off guard. Drawing his arm forward, he rammed his elbow back with as much strength as he could muster, striking directly into the taller man's stomach and winding him.

As the redhead bent over and started coughing, Sanzo detached himself from the arm over his shoulders and walked off, slamming the bar door as he left. '_How __**dare**__ he touch me? No one touches me without consent!'_

Sanzo had moved a few blocks from the bar, eyes still becoming accustomed to the mid-afternoon light, when he felt something lightly pricking his skin in the general area of his left pectoral. Lightly rubbing over the area with the heel of his hand, he was surprised to feel something sitting inside the chest pocket of his button-down shirt.

Dipping his fingers into the pocket, Sanzo drew out a folded piece of paper with rough edges that had clearly been torn from a notepad. Suddenly curious, he unfolded the paper and tried to focus on the messy handwriting. Without his glasses, it was difficult to see something so close up.

"_Hey Blondie, I know it's a cliché and all, but call me if you're looking for a good time!"_

At the bottom of the note was a phone number, but no name. Not that it mattered; Sanzo already knew who the note was from, even if he couldn't quite figure out how the redhead had gotten it into his pocket. When the realisation hit, he felt like a complete idiot. '_Of course! He must've done it when he had his arm across my shoulders! I __**knew **__that prick was up to something.'_

Walking to the nearest bin, the scrap of paper was held above the rim for a few seconds before Sanzo sighed and shook his head. Something was telling him not to throw away the note, to keep it on hand just in case; and so he refolded the paper, tucking into the pocket of his jeans.

Keeping the number didn't mean anything; contacts were important in Sanzo's line of work.

Yeah. _That_ was it.

* * *

Gojyo stood at the end of the block, smirking to himself as the blonde took the note from his pocket, walked to a bin, hesitated, and then moved off with paper still in hand. He was pretty proud of himself, putting the message into the other man's pocket without getting his attention.

It was worth the new bruise most probably blooming on his abdominals right that second. Damn, but that man had quite the arm. Not really a surprise, judging by what Gojyo had seen and felt of his muscles; he was hiding a toned physique that surely had to be the product of constant exercise. '_I wonder where he finds the time to work out…looks aside, he seems like your everyday pencil-pusher; usually, those kind of guys don't have a lot of time for the gym…'_

He _had_ been wondering what it was that the blonde did for a living. Judging by the not-quite-casual clothing and the fact that he seemed like a rich, up-tight prick, Gojyo had assumed that the blonde was some sort of company manager or something equally as boring. The ones that pick up prostitutes usually were, in his personal experience…not that they generally carried guns…hmmm…

He hadn't been expecting to come across the man again so quickly; when he'd walked into that bar for nothing more than a drink, he'd been thrown completely off-course when he noticed the familiar figure hunched in the back corner of the room.

He'd borrowed a bit of paper and a pen from the bar, quickly scribbling out the note. He knew that he'd get rejected, but if he could just plant an idea in the blonde's head…

This was completely different from anything that Gojyo had ever done before. When he wrote down his phone number, work wasn't on his mind; he'd have sex with the blonde for free anytime. In any case, after the shorter man had left him in the alley, Gojyo had walked slightly dazed for a bit before it had hit:

He was in lust.

He actually _wanted_ to screw around with the gorgeous blonde again. He'd never felt anything like this before; had never felt any urge to actively seek someone out. And yet, there he was, approaching a hostile customer in a bar and handing out his phone number.

He'd seen people do it, over his years of working at the club; ordinary men and women picking each other up without any concept of payment. Hell, people had tried it on him a few hundred times, before Gojyo had realised that they weren't aware of his 'professional' status and he'd walked off.

He'd just…never wanted to actually do it himself. At least, until last night when he'd realised that even if the blonde didn't know who he was propositioning, he'd sleep with him.

The very idea that he might be letting someone close was unsettling, but then again he had no idea whether the blonde was even interested. There _were_ some signs though…the fact that the man had listened to his throwaway comment about having Sundays off; the way that the blonde hadn't left the table until Gojyo had clearly attempted to pick up; and the way that the man had actually hunted him down earlier.

People who never wanted to see their whore again just didn't do shit like that.

Underneath the anger, there was something interesting. Gojyo could tell; the man was hiding beneath his grumpy mask. There was something fascinating about him, and combined with the way he looked and the fact that he was a pretty good fuck, Gojyo was hooked. As long as the man didn't follow through on his threats of a bullet, Gojyo was prepared to keep pushing until the blonde submitted.

He'd have him again. The man had _acted_ like he wanted absolutely nothing to do with Gojyo, but his body seemed to say differently. He wasn't blind; Gojyo had caught the teeniest flicker of a smile around a cigarette when he'd held out his own lighter before the scowl returned.

The blonde tried to deny it, but it was there if you looked hard enough; he wanted Gojyo, possibly as much as Gojyo wanted him.

There was nothing to do but push until the other man cracked and dropped his pants. Maybe then, Gojyo would actually learn the man's name.

Leaning against the building behind him and lighting a cigarette, Gojyo laughed to himself at the sheer ridiculousness of his current situation. He was in lust with a nameless, grumpy customer who'd earlier threatened to shoot him. He was fully prepared to chase after the man for as long as it took. And, to top it all off, he was willing to fuck about without getting paid.

If some of the people he'd met over the years could see him now…

Gojyo suddenly found his mind wandering over into dangerous territory…the normally quiet area of his brain, the one where he kept the memories of his older brother, was starting to poke its figurative head up. It happened occasionally; he thought about what his brother would say about his profession, and he wondered if he'd ever see Jien again.

Ever since that night, when Gojyo's step-mother had gotten more abusive than usual, flying into a drunken rage…he'd truly thought that he was going to die by the knife in her hands, and there wasn't a damn thing he could've done about it.

But then…his brother had come in, hitting her over the head with a heavy lamp that had resided on a small table…the sickening crack of a breaking skull had made Gojyo wanted to vomit, and after his brother had turned and walked out, splattered in blood, Gojyo _had_ been sick. Eventually, he'd managed to drag himself off the floor and into the street, and he'd never looked back.

He didn't know what had happened to his step-mother's body, how long it had taken before someone had found it…and he didn't know what his brother was doing now. Even though the older guy had cared enough to save Gojyo's life over that of his own mother, he clearly didn't care enough to check up on how his younger half-brother was going.

Gojyo had gotten over the hurt of that a long time ago; but he'd never cared about anyone else since.

Realising that his cigarette was very nearly about to burn his fingers, Gojyo crushed it out against the wall and shook out his hair, trying to clear his mind of the depressing thoughts that had suddenly plagued it.

Smiling, he replaced images of his brother's blood-stained hands with images of how the anonymous blonde man's cock had looked wrapped inside his own fingers...and as he walked back to his apartment, Gojyo had to wonder whether his growing erection was starting to show or not.

It looked like he had some new material to use whenever he was stuck with a particularly repulsive client…like the one he had to deal with tomorrow.

Gojyo's smile shrank, but didn't disappear completely, as he remembered that he had an 'appointment' late tomorrow morning with a regular customer…he absolutely _hated_ having clients making house-calls, but there wasn't much he could do about it…

…Then again, if the blonde ever wanted to have a personal visit, there weren't going to be any complaints from Gojyo's end!

* * *

*******I swear that this is going somewhere. I should be done with the initial character bases now…hopefully…Please stick with me!*******


	4. Chapter 4: We Plan

*******This may be my last update for a while, I'm coming up to an absolute shit storm of exams, and I don't have room in my mind for much else other than revision (you really don't want me to end up accidentally writing "Hakkai Compares the Adversarial and Inquisitorial Trial Systems" or "Sanzo Implements Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs to Motivate the Ikkou").

But this fic is well and truly alive, as is 'En Masse', and after late November I'll have more time than ever to write. I'll just play it by ear until then, and will definitely be back later. Thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed so far! You make sure that I'll return ASAP.*******

* * *

Sanzo was woken up the next morning by the shrill sound of his phone ringing. Blindly groping for the source of the irritating noise, he knocked the handset from its base, and in the quiet of his apartment could hear the voice of his boss yelling even though the phone was nowhere near his ear.

Opening his eyes, he grabbed hold of the phone and dragged it over to his face, wincing as Dokugakuji kept shouting.

"Start again." Sanzo refused to yell back, instead icily telling the other man to restart his speech.

"AND I…hmm, what? Oh. I thought I told you to be here at nine this morning. Where are you, and why is it more important than your _job_? I swear, if it wasn't for…"

Sanzo dropped the phone onto his bed, not willing to hear about his father's influence so soon after waking up. Scrubbing his eyes with his fingers, Sanzo leisurely stretched his arms out before picking the phone up again and speaking into it. "One, I don't care. Two, you _never_ said that. Three, I'll be there in half an hour. Oh, and four; fuck you."

He hung up the phone, unwilling to start another day and have to deal with more idiots, but also not wanting to push his boss too far. Dokugakuji was a _relatively_ laid-back guy, mostly; but he was also a little trigger-happy and a _lot_ remorseless. Hell, you didn't get to run a crime syndicate without sacrificing a few lives in the process. He'd probably killed more important people than the not-legally-adopted son of the last leader's best friend.

Judging by the older man's tone, Sanzo guessed that he was supposed to be accompanying his boss somewhere important. Dragging himself out of bed, he opened his cupboard and threw on some underwear, picking out a dark, faintly-pinstriped suit. Glancing in the mirror Sanzo saw a generic businessman, perfectly aligned to what his 'official' job title stated: General Manager of Bosatsu Industries.

Not that he actually did any 'managing' of the legal business; Doku had other people for that, so Sanzo merely held the title to legitimise the fact that he often accompanied his boss to 'business meetings'.

Fifteen minutes later, Sanzo was crawling through traffic and wishing that the roads would clear up enough to let him go the last half-mile to the office building. Finally, the pace of the other cars increased, and twenty-eight minutes after hanging up his phone, Sanzo was stalking through the hallway towards the head office.

Pushing none-too-gently through the office door, Sanzo was greeted by his employer's distantly agitated face. Something serious was about to go down, he could just tell.

Doku's eyes came back into focus when Sanzo stopped in front of his desk, and he snapped them up to glare directly at the blonde. "Took you long enough. Anyway, no time for pleasantries; I have something really damned important for you today."

Sanzo's mind went into overdrive, trying to ascertain exactly what was about to be asked of him. '_Maybe it isn't actually bodyguard work today…a hit, perhaps?'_

"It's about…kid, sit down," Doku paused until Sanzo took a seat, "It's to do with how our businesses are going. We're losing serious ground to Kougaiji's organisation, especially in the prostitution rings. The guy who runs the club I sent you to the other night? He's one of Kougaiji's major pimps, and lately he's managed to steal too many of our top girls."

Sanzo's teeth gritted involuntarily at the mention of the rival group; they'd been the ones to ambush Sanzo and his father in their own fucking home, fatally wounding the _real_ 'Sanzo'.

It was only after those thoughts had passed that Sanzo clicked onto what he was most probably going to be asked; Prostitution ring…the club…_the redhead_…

"Oi, listen to me. Don't zone out now or I'll chuck you through that window over there. Now, this Banri guy is becoming a problem. It'd be best if we took him out quickly, but that wouldn't solve all of our issues. We need to maximise our operations, and we know perfectly well that the prick makes an absolute killing from his hidden brothels. What I need from you is to find out _exactly_ how his joints work."

Sanzo didn't like the possibility of coming into contact with that whore again. He was an irritating shit of a man, and just the kind of person Sanzo hated. It certainly had nothing to do with the fact that the other man seemed to be pushing his way into Sanzo's mind, not at all. He wasn't putting in any more research at any of Banri's clubs. "I've already…"

"No, what you got for me the other night was an outsider's view. I need _inside _information, and I needed it yesterday. This is on your ass now, Sanzo, so find someone who's willing to talk. I should warn you, I've had people try to get his girls to spill it all before; they're loyal. But those guys were…_easily distracted_. I'm trusting you to be able to ignore the 'charms'," Doku made finger quotations as he said the word, "of the girls you talk to."

Sanzo snorted quietly, fully aware that everyone connected to the organisation thought he was asexual. If only they knew…

He wondered vaguely whether that list of names he'd requested had been sent through yet; it would really come in handy right about now. Sure, he had the number of one of Banri's whore already, and the redhead would probably talk…but Sanzo wasn't going there. He refused to owe that man _anything_.

"So yeah, that's the deal. I don't want to see you; I don't want to _hear_ from you until you've found out everything…why are you still here? You've got a job to do." Doku was unusually serious, so Sanzo stood and left without another word. Not that he was generally anything but taciturn or insulting, regardless of his employer's mood.

He had a list of whores to get, and some serious convincing to do. And no, he wasn't going to call the redhead…unless he got _really_ desperate…maybe…

* * *

Gojyo flicked open his planner, trying to remember which clients he had coming up and when. His week was looking fairly bare; he only had three 'appointments' from today, being Wednesday, until Friday. After that it was two nights at the club, as per usual, and a day off on Sunday.

He was never going to make the money he needed at this rate; Banri's cut was just too high. Gojyo was glad that when he'd given the pimp his takings from the club, he'd pretended that the blonde had only paid the standard rate. That'd helped, a little.

His spirits jumped when the familiar buzz of his work cell sounded from the pocket of his loose cargo pants; hopefully it was someone enquiring about a job, so that he could make a decent pay.

Clearing his throat, Gojyo dropped his voice to a seductive tone as he answered the call from an unfamiliar number. "Gojyo here."

"Alright, listen, you. As much as I detest having to do this, I…Ineedtoaskyousomething." The final words were quiet and very quickly spoken, but Gojyo recognised the evil-sounding growl on the other end of the line, his spirits staying up even though this probably wasn't going to make him any money. He had one pissed-off, blonde hellcat on the line, who sounded like he needed a favour or something. This could get interesting…

"Oh, you sound _stressed_, Blondie. If you wanna come over, I can…relieve that for you." He couldn't resist laughing at the furious sighing noise that came through the phone

"Why do I always have to deal with complete idiots?" The other man's first sentenced was mumbled, probably more for his own benefit than Gojyo's hearing pleasure, before he raised his voice and continued, "I need information. You know everything I have to learn. You will tell me everything so that I will not have to lower myself to torturing it out of you, no matter how fun that sounds."

Gojyo was instantly suspicious; he'd heard variations on this theme before. "Blondie, are you a cop? I don't deal with cops."

He didn't think that the other man seemed like any sort of law enforcement, but then again, life on the streets taught you never to trust anyone on appearances. He'd also seen prostitutes selling out their pimps to police, hoping to escape the trade, only to end up dead because of it. Nothing good ever came from helping cops, not even when they were as gorgeous as Gojyo's mysterious customer.

"What? No, you dipshit, I'm not a fucking cop. Don't piss me off any more than you already do, or I'll go straight to the torture to get my information." Gojyo couldn't be entirely sure, but the other man _seemed_ genuine. Maybe he really wasn't a cop, but then…Ah, whatever, Gojyo could find out the specifics after he'd had some fun.

"Alright, Mr Not-A-Cop, I'm intrigued. What kind of torture are we talking? Whips and chains? Spanking? Because I'm _all_ for that sort of kink. I've got this afternoon free, we can start right now."

If it wasn't for the muffled screaming in the background, Gojyo might have thought that his new 'friend' had hung up. As it was, he simply waited until the noise stopped and the blonde offered some actual words, managing to grind out, "I. Will. Kill. You."

"Yeah, you might, but it sounds to me like I have information that you desperately need. You don't seem willing to tell me why you need it, and Hell, you haven't even told me _what_ you need. But I'll help you. I'm a nice guy. You just have to do something for me first." Gojyo really _was_ willing to help the man, as long as it had nothing to do with the police. It might even warm the grumpy blonde up a bit, and increase Gojyo's chances of getting to feel that elegant dick moving inside him again.

He bit back a moan at the memory, deciding that openly groaning wasn't the best plan of action when dealing with someone who was clearly homicidal. This guy couldn't be a cop; he was more like…well, a murderous maniac. That view was helped along by the infuriated, slightly insane sound that the blonde was currently using as a voice.

"Must I remind you, you fucking redheaded prick, which one of us is the whore?"

The insults were starting to wear a little thin on Gojyo, despite the fact that it was cheap entertainment to rile the blonde. He decided to get to it. "I don't have to help you out, y'know. But I might, if you play your cards right. Listen, I really do have the rest of the day free. If you come here, we'll talk- here being my apartment."

"Alright then…Gojyo, was it? Your address?" Gojyo's eyebrows rose, truly surprised that the blonde had agreed so quickly. '_He really must be desperate! I wonder what he wants…and why he wants it…Oh well, all in good time.'_

He reeled off an address, hearing pen scratch on paper over the line. Suddenly, a thought popped into mind and he immediately voiced it before the other man could hang up. "Hey, this isn't fair; you know my name, but I still don't know who the fuck _you_ are. Got a name, beautiful?"

Another drawn-out sigh entered Gojyo's ear, and he waited for the click and drone of the cut line. It came eventually, but not before an unusually calm voice broke the silence; "They call me Sanzo."

Gojyo felt himself smile, a genuine expression without any of its usual seductive or mocking edge. The blonde…Sanzo, really was warming up. It'd been a long time since he'd really gotten to know someone outside of the business…as long as the man didn't turn out to be a cop.

Gojyo had to remind himself that there was always that distinct possibility, but still he couldn't remove the almost-goofy smile from his face. The expression stayed until there was a knock on his door, when the smile grew wistful. Was it possible that Sanzo would be the one who would take his non-prostitution virginity?

Gojyo shook his head and sighed before opening the door. This lust thing was making him go…weird. He'd never cared about that sort of thing before; so why did it seem almost _important_ now?

* * *

Sanzo pressed the button to kill the connection, dropping the phone on the floor and running his hands down his face. He felt like he was making a huge mistake…well, a series of big mistakes that compounded upon each other to _become_ a huge mistake.

There was the fact that he'd called the redhead after two and a half days of telling himself, in no uncertain terms, that he wasn't going to use that number. But when he'd gotten his hands on the full list of Banri's workers, most of the names weren't accompanied by contact information. Not really a surprise. And the ones that _were_ reachable had all hung up after accusing him of being a cop.

He'd been at the very end of his rope, with the clock ticking and only one more shot at getting the information he needed. Hell, as it was he'd procrastinated for a full day before calling the redhead…'_Gojyo,'_ he reminded himself. And, just as he'd thought, Gojyo had heard him out, even after accusing him of being with the police. The man had to have an ulterior motive…and Sanzo knew perfectly well what it was probably going to be.

There was no chance of him getting out of this scot-free…hopefully he could ignore the whore's brazen come-ons. Idiot job, idiot boss, idiot rivals, idiot pimp, idiot prostitute…

And then there was the second mistake. He had actually agreed to go to the other man's _home_? It occurred to Sanzo that he'd probably get jumped the minute he walked through the door, without the cover of the public to save himself. Reaching for the inside pocket of his jacket, Sanzo drew out his revolver and checked the cylinder, making sure it was loaded. Chances were, he was gonna need it.

Sanzo put the gun back inside his jacket, hand stilling when he realised his third mistake. He'd forgotten to change his phone to a private number; Gojyo now had his name _and_ contact details. Sanzo blamed his adoptive father for the name thing; despite how he acted, the blonde had a ridiculous sense of honour that had been instilled in him by the real Sanzo. Because Gojyo had agreed to help him, Sanzo's honour had flared up and demanded that he answer the redhead's request for a name…

Stupid fucking sense of honour. It always led to trouble.

Deciding that he was only going to kill himself if he kept going over everything that he'd just done, Sanzo grabbed the piece of paper with the other man's address and realised why it sounded so familiar. He'd been to that building before; had killed a man who lived on the second floor. _That_ had been an interesting day. Kinda messy, though.

Sanzo realised that the redhead had to be doing okay for himself, considering where he lived; the building was in the bad part of the city, and it looked like shit from the outside, but it was all just a cover. The inside of the building was modern and clean, and apparently rent was fairly steep. There was more than one upper-level prostitute who traded out of the apartments, as well as the mistresses of rich guys who didn't want to be seen suspiciously entering apartment buildings in the ever-watchful, gossiping rich section of the city.

And now Sanzo was going there to extract information from a good-looking _male_ whore who seemed determined to jump him. Life was juuust _fabulous_, wasn't it?

Walking out to the hallway before he decided to repaint the living room with his blood, Sanzo slowly made his way to the building's garage, purposely taking his time. He really didn't want to do this…but then again, he really had no choice.

Focusing on the pass of traffic through the streets, Sanzo managed to forget the imminent torture…until he went to pull into the parking lot of Gojyo's building. What the fuck was he doing? Apart from being about to enter the home of an irritating, facial-tic-inducing _prick_, of course.

…There was still time to kill himself…

Cursing the thoughts of weakness, Sanzo told himself to man up and deal with it. He was a high-level criminal hard-ass; no one had the right to make him feel so…_stressed. _He was going to go into the redhead's apartment, get the information he needed, only touch the man if it was to beat the absolute shit out of him, and be done with his work.

Then, he was going to never contact, lay eyes on or even _think_ about the man again.

Standing outside the door of Gojyo's apartment, Sanzo took a deep breath to steel himself before reaching out and firmly knocking on the wood.

When a smirking redhead opened the door, it took all of Sanzo's willpower not to shoot the man there and then. But he had a job to do, and by God, he was going to do it.

"Come on in, Sanzo."


	5. Chapter 5: You Talk

*******I'm back! On a much more regular basis now! Also, I'd just like to thank everyone who has taken the time to review, I really appreciate it, and it keeps me writing quickly. So without any further ado, on with the story!*******

* * *

Gojyo held his door open, sweeping his arm across with a charming smile to gesture for Sanzo to enter. The blonde's upper lip curled into snarl, and Gojyo couldn't help but snort with laughter at the filthy expression.

"Let's keep this short, _whore_." Even though it was true, Gojyo really didn't appreciate the way Sanzo brought his profession into everything; after all, he wasn't about to forget what he did…or who.

Sighing in irritation, Gojyo stood back in front of the doorway and crossed his arms over his chest. "I still don't have to help you; I'm not getting anything from this, after all. So I'd appreciate it if you'd ease up on the insults."

The blonde glared, and opened his mouth to say something; when he simply shut his lips again, Gojyo stepped out of the doorway and walked inside his apartment. "You want a drink, cop?"

"I. Am _not_. A fucking cop. Get that through your idiot head." Gojyo rolled his eyes; he should've known that _somebody_ wouldn't be able to take a joke. "Yeah, I got that. What kind of a policeman would pick up a prostitute in an illegal brothel?"

From behind him, the redhead heard something that sounded like 'biggest mistake of my life'; it definitely wasn't the first time someone had said that about him, and it probably wasn't gonna be the last.

"Awww, you flatter me, Blondie. If I didn't know better, I'd swear that you were after a bit of this." Gojyo lightly slapped his own rear, and then swung around, jerking his thumb towards the living room. "Make yourself comfortable…though I'm guessing the stick up your ass might make that difficult."

Laughing, the redhead walked away into the kitchen, fishing a couple of beers from his fridge and grabbing an ashtray. When he got back to the living room, his visitor was sitting ramrod straight in a lounge chair, already lighting up a cigarette. "Oi, you, didn't your mother ever teach you it was rude to just start smoking in someone else's home?"

Sanzo growled, looking up with a glare that only darkened when he saw Gojyo's grin. The redhead slid the ashtray onto the coffee table, dangling a beer in front of the sitting man, who snatched it with a grunt of dismissal. "What would _you_ know? I didn't have a mother."

Gojyo's eyes widened when he realised what the blonde had just let slip, something that seemed like a fairly personal detail. He was lucky that Sanzo had already looked down, and didn't catch his reaction. "Well, that makes two of us, Blondie. And I guess it explains a little something about your severe lack of manners."

Making sure to sit in the closest seat possible to Sanzo, Gojyo took a mouthful from his bottle and leaned forward, knowing that the blonde wanted to get to business as soon as possible. "So, what d'you need? I actually don't know if I can help you, anyway."

"Oh, you can help me. What's unsure is whether or not I'm going to slaughter you before I leave." Sanzo took a drag off his cigarette, turning his head to blow the smoke into Gojyo's face. Petulant? Never.

"Just try it, gorgeous." Sanzo's eyes flared with anger at the name, and his hand twitched towards the inside of his jacket. Gojyo slouched back in his chair, waiting for all the empty posturing to appear, along with the gun. He was surprised when the hand was redirected to run through blonde hair; calming down hadn't seemed to be one of Sanzo's strong points.

"Don't call me that. _Ever. _What I need from you, though, is…I need to know how your pimp runs his racket." Gojyo couldn't help but notice how violet eyes were purposely directed to the side of his head, the blonde unable to look directly at him while asking for help.

He hadn't known what to expect from Sanzo; the man seemed genuine enough when he said he wasn't part of the police, and yet…why else would he want to know about the inner workings of a prostitution ring? "And why is that, Sanzo? You thinking about getting in on the action?" Gojyo sent a particularly seductive leer towards the blonde, dropping his voice slightly, "You could make an absolute mint with that body of yours."

"Shut the _fuck_ up, you piece of shit. I would never lower myself to the level of…_you_!" Ouch. That stung Gojyo a little, even though it was nothing new. It was probably just because of the pure venom dripping from Sanzo's tone that made this time seem…worse.

"Well then, what's with asking that? If you're not trying to get into the business, then it seems like one Hell of a cop question." Gojyo lit up one of his own cigarettes, gesturing with it towards Sanzo as he spoke.

The blonde sighed, looking like he was struggling with something. Then, suddenly, his face hardened and he looked directly at Gojyo. The redhead swallowed hard when droopy eyes stared intensely into his own, some long-buried emotion sparking faintly in the back of his mind. Before he could prod at it a bit further, though, Sanzo spoke. "I work for…Bosatsu Industries. I'm sure even you've heard of them."

Gojyo ignored the implied insult, instead trying to work out the other implication of what the blonde was saying. "Bosatsu Industries…hmmm…isn't that the company with the…_mob ties_…Sanzo, what are y-…"

"They have more than just 'mob ties', dipshit. The entire organisation is nothing more than a front for illegal activities. You know the drill: gambling, drugs…"

"And prostitution! Of course…why didn't I pick it?" Gojyo was blown away; because his pimp had a major position in one of the city's crime syndicates, he'd dealt with more than one mobster in his time, and could usually immediately tell who they were. And yet, despite the blonde's obvious penchant for violence and seemingly total unsuitability for corporate work, he hadn't even suspected…

"You didn't pick it because I didn't _want_ you to pick it. Simple as that." Sanzo finally looked away again, swigging from his beer while Gojyo ran through the facts.

His insane new…_acquaintance_ was some kind of gangster, and he was sticking his nose into a rival organisation's business. Also, the man seemed perfectly confident that Gojyo was going to spill everything- which he was, but still. What a cocky asshole…wait a minute…

"Blondie, why were you in the club that night?" Gojyo narrowed his eyes at his visitor, head tilting inquisitively to one side. Sanzo threw back the last of his beer, taking his time to answer.

"I was working. Casing the way everything operated." The man didn't seem inclined to elaborate, and the pair sat in silence for a couple of minutes, the majority of sound coming from the inhalation and exhalation of smoke into the air. It was only when Sanzo finally sighed loudly, purposely trying to get the taller man's attention, that the quiet was broken.

"What's on your mind, gorgeous?" Gojyo couldn't resist stirring the blonde up a little, the game getting more and more fun the longer he played. Sadly, the other man ignored the name this time, instead just focusing on the question.

"I was wondering, you idiot, when you were finally going to tell me what I need to know. Your company is simply _illuminating_, but I have a job to do and come Hell or high water, I'm going to do it."

Gojyo smiled cheekily and Sanzo looked at him, quickly looking away again. "Mmm, I do like a man who knows what he wants. I might just be falling in love with you, Sanzo."

Pale skin flushed pink, and Gojyo couldn't help but notice how _good_ the blonde man looked when he was embarrassed. Goddammit, if he wasn't such a prickly asshole, Gojyo would have been jumping in his lap and getting as few clothes between them as quickly as possible.

"Am I going to have to beat you up for answers? Because I'm leaning towards that option the longer you go on." Oh God, Sanzo just didn't know when he was running himself into a trap, did he? Gojyo couldn't resist going along with the unintended innuendo.

"I'm entirely down with you, ah, beating me _off_ for answers, if that's where you were heading." The redhead winked flirtatiously, and the atmosphere in the room suddenly turned nasty.

"Alright, I've had it. Go crawl back into your little syphilis-filled whore hole, I don't give a flying fuck. You're a stupid fucking dickhead, and I will be glad to never associate with you again in my life. _Ever_." The blonde hissed his words, pure anger seething through as he stood and stormed towards the front door.

Behind him, crimson eyes widened as Gojyo felt a flash of annoyance, and a tiny hint of something that just _might_ have been hurt. Before he realised what he was doing, the redhead had stood, quickly moved across the room, and put his hand on Sanzo's shoulder to turn the man back around.

"_What?"_ The tone of voice promised violence, and Gojyo knew that he should take his hand off the other man's arm, but instead he simply stayed still. It wasn't until the blonde forcibly removed Gojyo's grip that he thought to speak, and he allowed the man to take a single step away. "I'll help you. Just go back to the living room."

The look that Sanzo gave the redhead was pure suspicion, as if he thought he'd end up naked and tied to a bed if he stayed any longer. As much as Gojyo enjoyed that idea, he figured that doing something like that would spell his untimely death, and so he wasn't actually planning anything- apart from what the blonde had asked him to do.

"You're worse than a fucking skittish animal, I swear. C'mon, man." Gojyo shook his head, smirking a little. Turning around, he walked back the way he had come, listening for the sound of footsteps behind him. Eventually he heard Sanzo begin to follow, and his eyes lit up in triumph.

Gojyo sat in the same seat as before, gesturing for the blonde to sit as well. It was only after almost a minute passed that Sanzo took up his seat once again, his posture clearly showing that he wanted to keep as much distance between himself and Gojyo as possible. The redhead thought it was hilarious, but cleverly kept his mouth shut.

"So, where do you want me to start?"

"From the beginning, obviously." Sanzo glared, seemingly reluctant to add any more, and Gojyo sighed. This was probably going to take quite a while.

"I'm assuming you know all the places that Banri owns: the strip joints, the legal whore houses, and the illegal club brothels, yes?" Not waiting for an answer that never came, Gojyo continued on, staring at a spot just left of Sanzo's face. "Well, we all basically get shuffled around those places. Most of the girls who work as prostitutes also work the strip clubs. The guys like me don't do that; the market for male strippers just doesn't make enough money. So we do house calls instead. I'm not real keen on that sorta' thing, but Hell, the money's good and it's still better than the streets."

Sanzo nodded just a little, and Gojyo paused as the back of his mind admired the way afternoon light played over shoulder-length hair, swaying slightly with the movement. Maybe that whole 'tied to a bed' scenario might play out, after all…

As if he could read Gojyo's mind, Sanzo glared harder, and the redhead couldn't help the slight flush that crept across his cheeks. Clearing his throat, he distracted himself by talking. "Anyway, as for the actual business…"

* * *

Two hours later, the two men were still sitting in the same positions, the only changes to the room being a collection of empty beer bottles and an overflowing ashtray now sitting on the coffee table. They'd started drinking again not long after Gojyo had begun his speech, and although the redhead was doing fine holding his liquor, Sanzo was beginning to look a little sketchy. Gojyo could only assume that he hadn't eaten, as they really hadn't had all that much to drink.

"…And that's everything." Gojyo stretched his body out, enjoying the feeling of his joints cracking. Sanzo screwed his nose up at the loud noises, subconsciously leaning away from the source of them. "Do you mind? That's fucking disgusting."

Gojyo smirked, switching to making his knuckles crack. "Not at all. So, anyway, is there anything else you wanna ask?"

Purple eyes flicked up and to the left, the way Gojyo had noticed they did whenever the blonde man was thinking. When they returned to the forward position, Gojyo realised that he'd been staring, and that he'd just been busted. However, instead of the expected glare, the gaze simply dropped down.

"That'll be enough…thankyou." The last word was spoken like someone had a gun to his head, and it made Gojyo snort with laughter. Sanzo was an ungrateful bastard, _and_ a violent prick, but there was just something oddly endearing about him. Not to mention the fact that he looked like some sort of carnal god, and had the cock to match.

The taller man blinked rapidly as his new favourite memory made his dick begin to stand at attention, the lust stronger than usual due to his close proximity to the guy who had a starring role in the vision.

Thanking the gods for loose cargo shorts, he tried to think of anything other than ripping his clothes off and jumping Sanzo's bones.

The blonde might have been hot, but there was very little worth getting shot for.

It was an unsettling relief for Gojyo, to realise that there was actually something he wouldn't do to have Sanzo. This was…_new_, for him to actually think about going after someone; usually he lost all interest after fucking a person, if he'd even felt anything in the first place. Sex to him was all just business, really.

And even if…_holy fuck!_

All of a sudden, Gojyo's half-full bottle was spilling on the floor and his lap was full of writhing, spitting, and more-drunk-than-he-was-letting-on Sanzo. The small section of his mind that was still working filled in the gaps: obviously, the blonde had stood up to leave, but the beer had kicked in and his motor skills had been a little…impaired. And of all the directions he could have fallen in, it just _had_ to be right on top of Gojyo, didn't it?

A toned thigh was pressing firmly against Gojyo's groin, and the blonde's struggling was creating a rather pleasurable rubbing sensation. The redhead managed to avoid groaning out loud, but he couldn't bring himself to help the blonde stand up. It just felt too damn good.

When Sanzo went perfectly still, the colour drained from Gojyo's face, and he knew he was in trouble. There weren't many reasonable excuses he could come up with that would explain the hardness pressing against the blonde's leg, and the truth was going to end with one of them in pain; most likely Gojyo.

"Fucking _pervert!_" Sanzo's words were hissed out and he was on his feet, moving quickly through the room like he _wasn't_ completely smashed. Still, Gojyo was faster, and before the blonde could reach the front door, his path was blocked by a taller, heavier and altogether stronger man. "MOVE, you _fuckwit!_"

Gojyo stood firm. This actually wasn't about him, for once. "Oh, no. You're pissed, and there's no chance in Hell of me letting you drive like this."

Sanzo's expression could have frozen vodka, and Gojyo was entirely proud of himself for not giving a single millimetre under the intense glare. He wasn't about to let the man kill himself from drink-driving, if he could help it. Sure, there wasn't much to his plan after 'stop Sanzo from leaving', but Gojyo was good at improvisation.

"I'm fine! If you don't let me the fuck out of here right this second, I'm gonna-…"

"You're not _fine_. You fell onto me, for god's sake!" Gojyo tensed as the blonde's fist rose into the air, but it just hovered as the man started to yell.

"I'm not about to fucking stay here with you, _whore_! You probably tripped me up anyway, since you seem so goddamn eager to get into my pants, perverted little shit that you are! There's no way I'm giving you even the _slightest_ opportunity to…to _molest_ me any further, so get out of my way and you'll keep your life!" In any other context, Gojyo would have been impressed by the fact that he'd just been treated to the longest monologue he'd ever heard from Sanzo. As it was, he was keeping a wary eye on the raised fist, tendons bulging in a pale arm as the blonde squeezed his hand tight.

"No. Everything you said there was wrong…well, except f-…uh, nothing." It didn't seem like the best time to point out the fact that he really _was_ eager to get into Sanzo's pants, and Gojyo only just managed to censor himself in time. He continued in a falsely calm tone, "I just don't want you to die, now that you owe me a favour for today. So get your ass onto the couch and sleep the booze off."

Pure rage flashed in violet eyes, and Gojyo saw the fist move, just not towards his face. The sound of a gun being cocked sent panic through him, adrenaline starting to pump as his body debated fight or flight. The decision was made as a bullet flew past, almost singeing red strands of hair as it lodged itself into the door behind Gojyo. On pure instinct, Gojyo ducked in anticipation of a second shot, and Sanzo used the distraction to slip past and out of the apartment.

Gojyo stood, watching in dismay as the lithe blonde disappeared down the hallway and out of sight. How could he have been so stupid as to have forgotten about the gun? He should've been expecting the shot to come, or at least to have been threatened.

Groaning, Gojyo hit his head against the wood of his open door, letting it rest there as the adrenaline began to slowly ebb from his system, leaving him tired and still a _little_ horny. Maybe he was just a masochist at heart, but a livid Sanzo was a stunning Sanzo.

He just hoped that the man didn't kill himself out on the roads, or anyone else. That would be _way_ more trouble than it was worth, and Gojyo didn't want to be the one responsible for another death.

The redhead sighed, turning back to go inside the apartment. Luckily, no one would come to investigate the gunshot; it was all par for the course in his building.

But why did he seem to attract all the psychos? Was there some sort of sign above his head that said, 'if you're crazy, I'm willing'? Just once, _once_, he'd like to meet someone normal; but that didn't look like it was ever going to happen.

Then again, normal was overrated…probably.


	6. Chapter 6: You Brawl

*******This chapter is shortish, but that's because it's a bit of a bridge. Sorry, but it's necessary. We'll return to your regularly scheduled programming next chapter, I promise.*******

* * *

The following morning, Sanzo stormed down the hallway to Dokugakuji's office, his face contorted in an angry snarl and his head hurting like a bitch. He _really_ shouldn't have been drinking with that whore; he'd had nothing in the way of food since Tuesday night, and the alcohol had hit him like a ton of bricks.

Then again, Gojyo had been damn near bearable after a few beers; of course, he'd ruined it by going and doing _that_…

Sanzo's eyes narrowed further at the memory of falling into the redhead; he firmly maintained the belief that he'd been purposely tripped up, because he certainly wasn't uncoordinated enough to fall on his own.

Yes, that was it. The asshole had planned it all, and had probably expected Sanzo to bend over, too.

_Not a chance in Hell._

Ever since he'd left Gojyo's apartment the previous day, the blonde had been stewing, his mood worsening with every thought he had about the whore and any of the time they'd spent together- _especially_ when he remembered how the stupid slut had been so obviously, shamelessly, and most-definitely-not-in-the-least-little-bit-erotically _hard_.

Now, it was looking like someone was probably going to die, _very_ soon, if Sanzo couldn't get his mind onto something else.

Slamming through Doku's office door, as per usual, Sanzo wasn't surprised when his boss simply glanced up and then looked back down, returning to the cleaning of his favoured pistol.

"You'd better have some good news for me, kid." Doku extended the arm holding the gun, looking it over with a critical eye. Sanzo didn't think it was an accident that the pistol was pointing directly at him, whether it was loaded or not.

"Yeah. I know it all." Doku stopped inspecting the gun, raising his head to look properly at Sanzo. A small smile spread over his lips and he gestured with the gun for Sanzo to sit, before placing the weapon into his jacket holster.

"Shit, Sanzo, you really got one of his girls to talk? I must say, I'm impressed. I _knew_ there was a reason I kept a disrespectful, pissy, completely rude bastard like you around." Doku winked, and for some unknown reason, Sanzo's rage increased exponentially. He'd never been affected by his employer's idiocy this much before; why did the expression anger him so much now? There was something oddly familiar about the action, but not because he'd seen it before from Dokugakuji…

Shaking his head and trying to clear his mind, Sanzo sat in an empty chair, lighting a Marlboro. He looked up just in time to see Doku roll his eyes, pushing an ashtray across the desk. "Yeah, I got a decent source on this one."

"Is she trustworthy?" Sanzo had to focus on keeping the slight flush from his cheeks; he didn't want Doku knowing that his rat was a male prostitute, not a female; there were too many questions that could be raised by that bit of information. He'd play along with the feminine pronouns, because life was just easier that way.

"I shouldn't have any problems." Sanzo believed that- the redhead might have been a lecherous, filthy perve, but it hadn't seemed likely that Gojyo would go running to his pimp and tell him about what Doku was planning.

The older man leant back in his chair, linking his fingers together behind his head. A lewd grin appeared on his face, and his eyes lit up; the expression was a long way from the cold, deadly stare Sanzo knew his boss could muster. "So, kid…how'd you find her, and what'd you have to do for her? I know for a fact that whores don't do anything for free, and if you've got as much info as you think you do, then it must've been pretty expensive."

Sanzo nearly growled at that, his expression showing nothing but anger. He'd rather not think about the 'favour' that Gojyo had mentioned, and he sure as Hell wasn't going to explain how he managed to come across one of Banri's whores- a _male_ whore, at that. It was just lucky for Doku that the blonde knew how fast the older man's reflexes were; if Sanzo thought he could shoot the man before he got shot himself, it would be happening as soon as humanly possible, just to avoid answering those potentially dangerous questions.

"Either you want to hear what I know, or you don't. Cut the shit, or I'll walk away. Right now." Even though he was fully aware that his choices were talk or die, Sanzo just couldn't give up his fight. It wasn't in his nature to submit that easily.

Luckily for the blonde's health, Doku laughed. "You really are a prick, aren't you? Okay, we'll play this your way. Talk, and I'll shut up."

Satisfied with the answer, Sanzo sat back in his chair, tilting his head to stare at the ceiling. Running a hand through his soft hair, he started to repeat everything Gojyo had told him the day before.

* * *

Gojyo groaned, tightening his legs around a cloth-covered waist as he came into his own hand, years of practice allowing him to keep the mess from getting onto the client.

The other man yelled right in his ear as he found his own release, making Gojyo wince as a slight pain shot through his head. He'd forgotten how loud this particular customer could be, but he used the twinge to anchor him to the present, stopping himself from letting his guard down and falling into post-orgasmic bliss.

Unwinding his legs from behind the man's back, Gojyo waited as the cock left his body, sitting up to remove and bin the condom for his client. He wiped his hand on a tissue, binning that as well, before finding his clothes and redressing.

He always made sure to get his payment up front, and Gojyo didn't look back as he left the other man half-asleep in the bed, promptly leaving the love hotel.

He needed a fucking shower.

It wasn't very often that Gojyo felt…_dirty_ after working; he was generally so used to fucking whoever was willing to pay, that he had no emotional reaction to it whatsoever.

This client, however, always left him feeling like he was tainted or something. It wasn't that the man was horrendously ugly, or anything; sure, his hair was greasy, his skin was pockmarked, and his body needed a good workout, but Gojyo had serviced worse.

Something about the man just repulsed him, and he always found himself needing to fantasise in order to get off whenever he paid this particular client a visit. Today, he'd come harder than usual, thanks to a wonderfully vivid imagination that let him look at the other man and see perfectly pale skin, purple eyes, and lips that looked like they'd be perfect for cocksucking.

If only the _real_ owner of those lips didn't have teeth that seemed always ready to bite…but then again, the sense of danger was half the fun.

Goosebumps popped up over tanned skin, and Gojyo found himself smiling as he walked home, taking shortcuts through back alleys and carparks, dodging around strung-out junkies who were slowly dying in the late afternoon heat.

Oh, yeah. He could use visions of the blonde man every time he had a customer, and he didn't think he'd ever tire of it. Hell, he'd done it twice today alone.

But sooner or later- most probably sooner, most preferably _now_- Gojyo was going to want to make some new memories. He just had to figure out how best to get Sanzo 'on board', in a manner of speaking. From what he'd seen so far, a full-on assault had about Buckley's chance of working, and so Gojyo was gonna have to get subtle.

The redhead sighed out loud, catching the attention of a man and a woman who were walking past, wringing a lust-struck expression from the female and a filthy scowl from her jealous partner. Gojyo didn't notice any of this- he was too busy lamenting about how much he _hated_ subtlety.

Why did the first person to ever truly catch his attention have to be such a frigid, repressed bitch? The redhead made sure to add that question to his mental list from the previous afternoon, a list that was probably never going to be completely finished, if at all.

Sex for money was so much easier than sex for lust…no _wonder_ he'd never really tried it before.

Walking through yet another alley, Gojyo was so distracted by thoughts of Sanzo that he wasn't paying enough attention to his surroundings. His guard was down, a rare occurrence, and so he didn't see the fist that came flying towards his face until it was a millisecond from connection.

Head snapping back painfully, Gojyo found himself on his ass as the world tilted violently, a well-muscled man standing over him as a boot rammed directly into his ribs. Judging by the way it felt like his chest had shattered, a small area of Gojyo's mind decided that the boots were steel-capped.

Great.

Readying himself- as much as possible- for another attack, the redhead tensed further when no new pain appeared. Instead, the foot came to rest on his stomach while the man glowered down at him; a tactically stupid move that left him wide open.

Gojyo, mind repressing the pain as he planned on how to get away, feigned agony as his attacker- who didn't look to be armed- laughed in triumph. "Not so fuckin' high-and-mighty now, are we? _No one_ touches my woman and gets away with it, y'hear?"

Making an appropriate mask of fear, Gojyo's brain split into two trains of thought, the main section focusing on finding the appropriate opening to retaliate, and the other wondering just what the fuck the man was on about.

Oh. Right. Gojyo's Monday night house call: the woman who'd clearly been taking off a wedding ring as he'd entered her house. He assumed that was the issue in question; in any case, he wasn't about to ask. He didn't have all that many female clients, anyway- it was usually the husbands who seemed more interested in his services.

He'd been in this situation before, only this time, the man was cocky. Too cocky. He underestimated the strength of a guy who'd been on the streets since nine years of age. Gojyo's attacker may have had seventy pounds of muscle over the redhead, but Gojyo had plenty of experience in taking down older, stronger men.

The foot that had been pressing into his stomach lifted, then drove down onto Gojyo's sharp hipbone. The pain lanced through before well-honed survival instincts forced it away, and Gojyo used the opportunity to roll onto his side, curling his legs up as if submitting to the beating.

The movement made the redhead's loose jeans rise up above his ankles, giving him easy access to the knife he always made sure to tuck inside his own boots.

As the standing man's foot lifted again, Gojyo rolled out of the way with a wince of pain, grabbing his blade as the steel-capped boot connected with solid ground. The knife was small, but it was sharp; a scream of pain sounded as the steel was plunged into a vulnerable calf, Gojyo ripping the knife upwards as he stood into a proper fighting stance, mostly steady on his feet.

The man began to crumple from the unexpected injury, and Gojyo stepped forward to sink the knife into his assailant's stomach, quickly pulling it out and slamming his elbow into the back of the goon's neck as he fell forward. He could easily have slit the man's throat, but the cops were a _lot_ more likely to get involved in a murder case than in a simple, garden-variety assault.

A bizarre gurgling sound came from the man's throat, and his eyes rolled back into his head as he passed out from his injuries.

Huh. Didn't even manage to fight back. Gojyo shook his head, wondering just how weak the guy had thought he was. For good measure, Gojyo stomped hard on the man's limp wrist, hearing a satisfying crack as the bones snapped.

The redhead didn't _really_ relish violence, but sometimes you just had to make a point. His point here?

Don't fuck with Gojyo Sha.

Wiping the blade and his hand off on the man's shirt, Gojyo made sure to check himself for tell-tale splashes of blood before calmly stepping back into the street, mind now on full alert and body limping only slightly. He was careful to avoid showing any observers the fact that he probably had a broken rib, and was therefore weakened; luckily, the punch to the face hadn't split anything open.

No matter how much he wanted to figure out how to get back into Sanzo's pants, all his planning would be worthless if he was killed. Gojyo had made a few too many enemies, a few too many debts, to wander through alleys with his head in the clouds.

He berated himself for his stupidity, and wondered whether it was worth it; why he'd let one man, who hadn't shown any interest since that first night, get to him so fully that he damn near forgot thirteen years of survival instincts.

Gojyo was just lucky that today's opponent had been a complete idiot, and a useless fighter to boot. He wouldn't have even gotten that lucky punch in if the redhead had actually been paying attention.

Questioning, not for the first time, just what the fuck had gotten into him lately, Gojyo was suddenly struck by the memory of a pale hand wrapping around his own, jerking his cock as he was pressed into the wall and…

Right. _That_ was what had gotten into him; a ridiculously sexy blonde man with an attitude of ice and a touch like fire.

Gojyo reached back and swept his long hair from his neck, suddenly feeling overheated; he assumed it was from the extra, unintended exercise that he'd just been forced into.

At least, he hoped it was; he really didn't need a fever at this point. He had a client to visit tomorrow, two nights of club work to get through, and the resistance of a stubborn, blonde gangster to break.

That list being from lowest to highest priority, of course.


	7. Chapter 7: We Work

After making it home and patching himself up, Gojyo found that Friday and Saturday passed without conflict, his time devoid of random attacks and mysteriously gorgeous new customers.

The only thing that he could consider to be out of the ordinary came during his Saturday club shift, when he could have sworn that he caught a glimpse of pale skin and blonde hair; but no, his customer for the night was an all-too-common man, whose features the redhead couldn't recall in the slightest.

However, before his shift on the Friday night, Gojyo had been talking to another of the club's prostitutes; a guy he got along with quite well, who went by the name Goku. The kid was only eighteen, but he was the second-highest male earner, after Gojyo himself. Apparently, the fact that Goku looked as if he was about twelve endeared him to a lot of the sick fucks out there.

Sure, this was coming from a guy who'd been selling himself since he was fourteen- but he'd gotten away with that for the opposite reason. Gojyo had been a tall kid, and he'd easily passed as eighteen or older way back when.

But it was what Goku had said that was the interesting part. Apparently, he'd heard some of the girls saying that a cop had been trying to get them to talk, but they'd refused. None of them knew whether they should tell Banri or not; Gojyo was glad that it sounded like no one had spilled to the boss.

Gojyo was careful not to let on that he had a fairly good idea about who had been trying to talk to the other whores; from what he could tell, none of the other men had been contacted, and he'd just make himself look suspicious by showing how much knowledge he had.

If Banri found out about Sanzo, it was going to take a major miracle to save Gojyo's life. Showing disloyalty to your pimp was as good as putting a loaded gun in their hands, and then pressing your forehead against the barrel.

Gojyo wasn't ready to die just yet.

He knew he'd covered himself well, but Gojyo thought he was about to have a heart attack when, on Sunday evening while walking to buy cigarettes, an all-too-familiar car pulled up beside him.

Banri wasn't _quite_ high enough in the hierarchy, or rich enough, to have his own chauffeur, and so the sleek black Mercedes was being driven by the pimp himself. Gojyo had to work to keep his face steady as the tinted passenger's side window rolled down, even though his heart was beating at a million miles per hour.

Banri _never_ spoke to him outside of business…did he know?

"Get in the car, Kappa." Gojyo's eyes narrowed for an instant at the nickname, but he figured that it would be in his best interests to stay neutral for as long as he could. It was possible that this had nothing to do with Sanzo, right? He slid into the perfectly-maintained car.

"Evening, Banri." There was no response, and the redhead leaned back into the leather seat, trying to calm his over-working heart.

The silence itself wasn't unusual; Banri was a paranoid guy. He refused to have serious conversations anywhere except his own properties, and especially not over the phone or in a car. _That_ was why Gojyo knew he was in trouble- something major was up.

The man drove to the outskirts of the city, where his large house was situated. The tension of the quiet ride pushed Gojyo's anxiety higher, the suspense of not knowing whether his death was fast approaching making him twitch slightly.

When the car finally pulled up into Banri's garage, and the pimp got out, Gojyo breathed a sigh of relief, even though the worst was yet to come. The redhead simply hated silence; it reminded him of the years spent with a step-mother who seemed to try her best to ignore him- when she wasn't hitting him, of course.

Following Banri out of the car and into the house, Gojyo ran his mind through possible excuses. He couldn't come up with a single good reason for why he'd been talking to a rival gang's member…quite frankly, he was fucked.

And here he had been, thinking that he was going to die in a dramatic fight, or from some sort of sex-related incident. But no, it looked like he was going to be just another deceased whore, killed by just another pissed-off pimp.

Gojyo had managed to avoid the drug-overdosed prostitute cliché, just to fall right into another.

Banri led the way to his front room, an open space filled with expensively tacky artworks that served only as bragging points. Gojyo had taken two steps into the room when the older man had turned on his heel, his open fist lashing out to backhand across a twin-scarred cheek; the same cheek that was still a little sore from Gojyo's altercation in the alley just days earlier.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Banri's naturally weak voice hissed in anger, and Gojyo kept his gaze to the floor. Maybe his death would come quicker if he showed proper respect- something that was a little hard to do when your pimp was a couple of inches shorter than yourself.

"I don't know what you mean." Playing dumb was a skill that Gojyo had worked up a long time ago, and it came naturally here. He'd never admit to anything; especially if it meant that Sanzo's ass was put on the line as well. Gojyo never liked it when his own messes screwed other people over; he fully believed that everyone should be responsible for themselves, and only themselves.

"Of _course_ you know what I mean, you piece of scum. Your cute little dumb act won't work here." Gojyo sighed, running a hand over his tied-up hair. Oh well, at least he'd leave a pretty corpse.

Gojyo gave no verbal reply, and Banri lashed out with his hand again, striking almost the exact same place as earlier. "I'm sitting here this afternoon, enjoying a day off, when my phone rings. Do you know what the call was about?"

Gojyo lifted his eyes, defiantly looking into Banri's face. "I suppose you're going to have to tell me."

Banri glared, but Gojyo wasn't affected by it; the look had nothing on any one of Sanzo's many different furious expressions. The expected slap didn't come, but Gojyo knew that it was a useless reprieve. He was going to die anyway.

"Y'know, I really didn't have a problem with you before this, Kappa. You make me a metric fucktonne of cash, and you've rarely done anything wrong. But there's a few things I won't tolerate, and when I get a call telling me that one of my whores has been out causing trouble, I take offence." Banri grabbed the front of Gojyo's blue t-shirt, dragging him down until their faces were level.

"I heard that you'd been _busy_ earlier this week. Dwayne's wrist is completely shattered, and you tore right through his calf muscle. He _was_ one of Kougaiji's best-trusted security guys, but now he's completely useless. And guess what? Because you belong to me, Kou is completely pissed at me. I can't accept this, you stupid slut."

Gojyo blinked- once, twice, three times. Dwayne? Who the fuck…oh. _Ohhh_.

The guy from the alley. Not Sanzo; not a rival gang; but the prick who'd tried to settle a stupid personal vendetta in a filthy back lane.

Banri seemed to be waiting for an answer, but Gojyo didn't have one. He was…maybe he _wasn't_ going to die after all! "Well? No smart remarks today?"

Without thinking, Gojyo answered on reflex. "The fucker broke my rib, _and_ he was disputing my right to business. I didn't kill him; he should be thankful for that."

Banri struck the redhead for a third time, and it took a considerable amount of willpower for Gojyo to resist fighting back. If it had been anyone else, _anyone_, they would've found themselves in serious trouble right now…

"That doesn't excuse a fuckin' thing, and you know it. Because you're my personal goldmine, I'm going to let you off- _once_. Do something like this again, and your brain'll be on the outside. Now, though, you're gonna have to make it up to me for the absolute ripping that I copped because of your fuckin' idiocy."

"What d'you want me to do?" Gojyo asked the question, despite the fact that he knew what was about to come…in more ways than one.

Banri smiled, a sadistic expression that truly wasn't attractive in the least. "Well, first up, Kappa, you're going to suck me off. Get to it."

Fingers tightened cruelly in red hair, and Banri used his grip to yank Gojyo onto his knees. Reaching for his pimp's belt buckle, Gojyo thought about how much of a bullet he'd dodged on this one- even if blowing Banri wasn't usually the most pleasant experience.

Still, dealing with a bad taste in the mouth was better than dealing with lead in the mouth, Gojyo was sure.

* * *

On Thursday morning, after telling his information to Dokugakuji, Sanzo had been dismissed with a simple message: 'I'll call you when we're ready to take this fucker out.'

As such, the blonde had spent most of his weekend in peace, with no call coming through. He'd even managed to keep his mind away from a certain antagonistic redhead, all bar the tiny little voice that tried to make him, on both Friday and Saturday, make a return trip to a certain illegal club.

Not fucking likely.

Sanzo spent his time in his usual fashion, avoiding unnecessary human contact and simply reading the daylight away, as well as having long target practice sessions; fairly unnecessary exercises for a man with a reputation for being one of the best shots in the business.

By the time late Sunday afternoon rolled around, he was becoming slightly eager to actually _do_ something- not that he would admit it to anyone who dared to impede upon his solitude.

When his cell phone finally rang, he forced himself to simply wait until a few rings had passed, so as to seem as if he wasn't waiting on tenterhooks. Truthfully, he was looking forward to a chance to work out some of his recent anger; pulling the trigger to end a life tended to be a cathartic experience for Sanzo, and he felt that he needed it.

"What?"

"You're up, Sanzo. I'm sending you and Hakkai in; he's just left my office, so be expecting him soon."

The call ended at that, neither man wanting to say _too_ much over a possibly tapped line.

As much as Sanzo hated having people in his apartment, he and Hakkai had to go over a few things if they were going to do their job properly. It was safest for them to be inside a private residence, and as far as anyone could tell, Hakkai didn't have a place anywhere close by.

No one was game to ask him where he actually lived; the man really was creepy as fuck. It was something to do with the permanent smile on his face.

Sanzo tucked the phone back into his pocket, lying on his couch while he waited for the knock at the door. Successfully blanking his mind out, he hadn't thought about Gojyo and how much of an _asshole_ the guy was all day; he wasn't about to start now.

Completely zoned out, he gave a start when three loud knocks sounded at the door. Standing up and trying in vain to fix his messed hair, Sanzo opened the door.

"Good afternoon, Sanzo. How have you been?" The greeting was given in a cheerfully friendly tone, the slightly taller man reaching up to adjust his glasses as he spoke. Sanzo turned and walked away with a slight grunt, causing Hakkai to laugh merrily.

"You're in quite the mood today, aren't you!" Sanzo ignored the other man, leading him into the kitchen to sit at the table. He didn't bother offering his guest anything.

"What'd Doku have to say?"

"We have to take the poor man out tonight. I had a tracker put on his vehicle; we'll know when he's heading home." Hakkai's tone had a hint of regret in it at the thought of killing someone, but Sanzo knew that it was fake. He'd watched the man slaughter more than one person; his actions certainly showed no regret.

"Guards?"

"No, this particular fellow is too paranoid for security. Apparently, he believes that guards are too easy to buy off; it's somewhat bizarre logic, but it works out quite nicely for us. He's unguarded nearly all the time."

Sanzo nodded, not having anything else to say. The conversation quickly dried up, and a polite silence settled in the room.

* * *

Over an hour later, Sanzo was picking open the back door to Banri's ridiculously oversized house, Hakkai standing behind him with a barely-concealed gun in hand. Trying to open the door as silently as possible, the pair stepped inside, eyes sweeping around as they tried to locate the object of the hit.

Keeping to the walls so as to not give up their advantage, Sanzo led the way inside the house, listening carefully for any sound of movement.

Stalking further in, he came to an abrupt halt when a loud voice rang out. "Fuck, Kappa!"

Sanzo's face curled up in disgust as he turned back to his companion. "Is he seriously doing what that sounded like?"

Hakkai's smile widened, and he nodded, keeping his voice soft. "Yes, it certainly seems so. That gives us an even greater advantage, don't you think?"

Rolling his eyes, Sanzo moved towards the noises, the sound of groaning getting louder. Some people, they just couldn't keep their perversions to themselves…

It didn't really occur to Sanzo that the man _was_ keeping to himself, considering the fact that he was in his own house. The blonde was simply too busy being self-righteous to care.

Eventually tracking the source of the noise to the very front room of the house, Hakkai and Sanzo paused by the door, keeping themselves hidden as they prepared for the final stage of their job.

Sanzo gestured to the dark-haired man as he burst into the doorway, taking only a second to observe where the target was before shooting two bullets, and hearing a third ring out from beside him.

Only then did Sanzo see the room's other occupant, as the person rolled defensively and upended a small table to use as a shield with a flash of…_red_ hair?

* * *

Gojyo was performing his usual duty with his usual impeccable skill when a movement caught the corner of his eye. Not stopping the slide of his lips and tongue, he slid his eyes across as two men burst into the room, armed with pistols.

Jerking his mouth away with a gasp, Gojyo instinctively ducked out of the way, finding a convenient side table to place between himself and the armed men. The angle that he and Banri had been at meant that the pimp didn't get a chance to see the intruders, and three bullets lodged themselves in his chest and head.

Well, fuck. There went his employer…but Gojyo couldn't really bring himself to care, especially as his life would have been Hell for quite a while, until Banri decided he wasn't mad anymore. Maybe his death was for the best…

Gojyo was relieved when no more shots rang out, but he tensed when he heard a somewhat familiar-sounding 'for fuck's sake!'

Not willing to stick his head out into possible danger, the redhead stayed put, waiting for the others to make the first move. He simply listened to the conversation the pair were having, trying to figure out why one voice seemed so damned _familiar…_

"Is he done?"

Footsteps sounded, and there was a brief pause before the familiar voice spoke, "No pulse. Dead."

"What about the other one?"

"Give me a second."

The first man gave a cheerfully agreeable noise, and Gojyo wondered how a man who just killed someone could sound so happy and calm. Fucking psychopaths…

"Get your _stupid _ass out here, Gojyo."

The redhead felt his eyes widen; he _did_ know that voice. Well, this was interesting…

Standing upright, Gojyo flashed his most charming smile and held his palms up in mock surrender. "Well, fancy seeing you here, Sanzo!"

He wanted to say more, but he still had two guns trained upon him, and he couldn't see his life being saved twice in one day. No point in pushing the man who'd already shot at him once…

"Sanzo? Taking this one out, too?" The man Gojyo didn't recognise smiled politely as he spoke, and the redhead felt chills run up his spine. What kind of a man could look like that while _talking_ like that?

Gojyo turned back to Sanzo, a crimson eyebrow raised in question. He was truly curious about what the man's answer would be.

Sanzo's face showed a violent contemplation, clearly weighing up the pros and cons of shooting the redhead here and now. Sighing, he lowered his gun. "No, Hakkai. He…was my source on this one. Repayment for that favour will be not killing you, so count yourself lucky, _whore_."

The other man also lowered his gun, tucking it inside his coat- which was completely unsuitable for the summer heat. "Good evening, friend of Sanzo. I'm Hakkai."

The man walked over to Gojyo, extending his hand for the redhead to shake. Thrown off by the politeness of the assassin, Gojyo weakly shook back, only remembering to reply with his name as they let go of each other. "I'm Gojyo."

"And he is most certainly _not_ my friend. Hakkai, let's go."

"Hang on, Blondie, _wait! _You guys just killed my ride out of here, so it's only fair that you take me back into the city, right?" Gojyo smiled in a way that he hoped was endearing, rather than lecherous. It didn't work on Sanzo; that wasn't really surprising, considering that the man's back was to him.

"Certainly, Mr Gojyo! I'm driving, so we'll take you." Hakkai nodded at Gojyo, still smiling politely.

"Cool." Following Hakkai and Sanzo out of the room, Gojyo paused and turned back, slipping the wallet from Banri's pocket. It wasn't the first time he'd robbed a corpse, though it was the first time he'd had someone die mid-blowjob. Interesting.

Hurrying to catch up to the other two, Gojyo trotted up beside Sanzo, who glared at him. "And what, exactly, do you think you're doing?"

"Oh, well your, uh, friend said that he'd take me back into the city. It's good to know that not _all_ of you guys are total dicks."

Sanzo stopped, turning around with his hands on his hips. "Hakkai! What the fuck are you _thinking_?"

The brunette simply kept walking, passing the two paused men. "Well, I'm simply helping this nice man out. We did just kill his employer, after all."

Throwing his hands up in disgust, Sanzo stalked towards the back entrance of the yard, where they'd left Hakkai's jeep. Gojyo smiled his thanks to the polite man, who smiled back; only this time, Gojyo could have sworn that the expression was…_genuine_.

The redhead slipped into the back seat of the vehicle, stretching out as Sanzo and Hakkai sat in the front. Less than a minute passed quietly, before Hakkai addressed Gojyo. "So, Mr Gojyo, did we hear correctly when the sadly deceased referred to you as 'Kappa'? How exactly does one get a nickname such as that?"

Gojyo shifted in his seat, unhappy that others had heard the nickname. "Firstly, you can just call me Gojyo. I don't think anyone's ever really called me Mister. Secondly…yeah. Banri's always referred to me like that. Y'see, he…he didn't really care about my name, but calling us all by numbers would be a little _too_ suss. The guy is…was?...part Greek, so he used the Greek alphabet…I was whore number ten…'Kappa'."

Two heads snapped around as the man in the front passenger seat began honest-to-God _laughing_. "Oh, shit…that's fucking classic! _Kappa_…I like it. If I was ever going to lay eyes on you again, which I'm _not_, I'd keep that name in mind."

Gojyo snarled, resisting the urge to whack the Sanzo over the back of his pretty, blonde head. He'd always _hated_ being referred to as a number, even in a fairly well-disguised manner as what he had. It made him feel as if he wasn't…human.

"Now, now, Sanzo. That's not polite. Anyway, Gojyo…"

As Sanzo sat glaring out the front windscreen of the jeep, Hakkai and Gojyo made small talk until the centre of the city sped up around them. "Where am I taking you?"

Gojyo looked around, gauging his surroundings. "Ah, anywhere here's fine, man. Thanks for this."

"That's perfectly okay." Pulling to the side of the road, Hakkai turned around and extended his hand once again, which Gojyo grasped. "Have a nice life, Gojyo. Maybe we'll meet again, in another time and place."

Gojyo smiled, genuinely interested by the man who was both a perfect gentleman and a cold-hearted killer. "You too, 'Kai."

Letting Hakkai go, Gojyo jumped out of the open-top car, before turning back to face the men still inside. A cheeky smirk pulled at one side of his face, and he leaned against the side of the car where Sanzo was sitting.

"Thanks for not killing me, gorgeous." He swooped down, quickly kissing Sanzo on the cheek before legging it down an alley. His laughter echoed down the deserted laneway, slowly fading as Sanzo tried his best to escape Hakkai's hold on his shirt, so that he could go and kill the redhead.

Fuck subtlety!

* * *

Hakkai kept one hand on the back of Sanzo's suit jacket as he drove, keeping the man in place until they were far enough away from where the redhead had disappeared into the crowd.

"Relax, Sanzo. Or should that be…gorgeous?" Hakkai's quiet laughter didn't end when Sanzo turned his wrath to the brunette, his composure unflappable even under the worst of circumstances.

"Oh, please do calm down. He simply did it to get a reaction out of you…unless…"

"Unless _what_?" Sanzo's scowl intensified, but so did Hakkai's smile.

"Oh, never mind. I'm sure you'll be able to figure it out for yourself. Now, let us go and find Mr Dokugakuji. I'm sure he'll be most interested in hearing how our little job worked out."

Sanzo sat back in his seat, huffing indignantly. "Fine. But if you mention what just happened, I'll gut you and sell your organs on the black market."

Hakkai just laughed. "You have my silence, Sanzo."

"Good."


	8. Chapter 8: I Snap

Sanzo sat in his car, his arm hanging out the window so that the latest cigarette between his fingers sent its smoke into the darkened sky. He breathed out a toxic nicotine cloud and checked his watch: eleven fifteen p.m. but still oppressively hot. This latest heatwave was really beginning to wear on him.

He growled to himself- there were much better ways he could be spending his Thursday night, but no. He was stuck following some boring-as-shit minor gang member who _might_ have been selling the organisation's secrets. The man was just leaning against some filthy building in the seedy part of the city, being completely obvious about the fact that he was waiting anxiously for someone.

…Maybe he really _was_ ratting on the group. Or maybe he was just trying to score some drugs. Wouldn't be a surprise, really- dealers were a dime a dozen around this area.

Sanzo flicked the finished Marlboro onto the asphalt and reached for another- his fourth- before dropping his head to light it up. He stretched his neck out the window to take a drag, enjoying a brief breeze running through his hair as he looked to the smog-clouded night. The wind halted and Sanzo felt more beads of sweat pop up on his forehead, making him pull his head back into the relative cool of the car's interior.

He closed his eyes, absent-mindedly rubbing at the spot on his cheek that had been itching sporadically for the last few days. He refused to analyse just why that might be.

Drawing on his cigarette once again, Sanzo opened his eyes to the building he had been watching and saw…nothing.

His mark was gone.

Cursing madly, Sanzo dropped the Marlboro and jumped out of his car. He looked around, desperately trying to find the man. If there was a slim chance that an information deal was going on, the blonde had to be there. He couldn't lose this chance: Doku probably wouldn't hesitate to kill him if he failed.

Sanzo gave another look around, sighing in annoyance when he saw the man turning into an alley far up the street. Setting off as fast as he could without arousing too much suspicion, Sanzo took after the man he'd been following for the past two hours.

'_We're finally getting somewhere…thank the Merciful Goddess.'_

* * *

Earlier in the day, Gojyo had been working out in his building's gym, wondering which deity he had to thank for his luck. His new pimp, a man who was known only as 'Zakuro', was generous enough to keep paying for his highest earner's apartment. Then again, only time would tell whether the new guy could run the prostitution ring as profitably as Banri had, and how long the man would actually stay alive.

Gojyo had stepped up his exercise routine since being attacked in the alley, even if he tried to keep his body more sleek than full-blown muscular. Sure, it was making his ribs hurt like a bitch, but a little pain had never stopped him before.

Then, as he was walking back to his apartment from the gym, his cell phone had rung. A quick look at the screen had told him that the caller was a frequent customer of his- so frequent that the man's name was saved to Gojyo's phonebook.

He stopped in the stairwell, dropping down to sit on one of the steps. "Gojyo here."

"It's Rick. I changed my mind for our…_appointment,_ so I want you to meet me where we hooked up a few weeks back. You know the place."

"Yeah, I'll see ya. Oh, do you want me to bring anything specific?" Gojyo managed to keep the reluctance out of his voice as he spoke; this particular customer tended to be a wildcard, vanilla some nights, kinky as all Hell on others. The redhead just hoped that the man wasn't up for anything worse than the location change. That on its own was bad enough. He was certainly used to regular sex, but some of the sick shit that people came up with still managed to disgust him.

"Nah, just bring your sexy ass along and I'll be plenty happy. Can't wait."

Gojyo ended the call, tucking his phone back into his pocket and standing up. He needed a shower.

Walking back to his apartment, Gojyo was half naked before the front door was closed and completely naked long before he reached the bathroom. Too bad that there was no one around to appreciate it…not even a certain blonde who seemed to be taking up more and more of Gojyo's thoughts.

The redhead was hard before he'd turned on the shower.

Enjoying the feel of cool water running down his body- it was too hot for a warm shower- Gojyo's need to be clean fell away to be replaced by a different need. He was only getting harder, and the sole path to relief was through his dick.

Closing his eyes as the water beat down, Gojyo ran one hand in a slow descent along his torso, brushing over the sensitive spot on the side of his stomach. Working up a new reality, he imagined that the fingers were smoother, more pale; the slender hand of a _different_ man.

In his mind, Gojyo saw the hand slide past his erection, instead tickling over the skin of his inner thigh. The other pale hand pinched at his nipple, rolling the hardened bud between finger pads with a burst of pained pleasure. Gojyo exhaled brokenly, bliss and anticipation coursing through his sensitised body.

He could almost feel the body of the man behind him, having gotten so lost in the fantasy that his movements were no longer consciously performed. Two fingers trailed up from his thigh, lightly stroking along his erection from the root to the tip and making the hard flesh twitch.

When fantasy-Sanzo's hand firmly surrounded his cock, thumb playing over the head, Gojyo let out a moan and was gifted with a slow slide down followed by a quick jerk upwards. The running water slicked the path, allowing a delicious level of friction that made the redhead's knees go weak.

A hand still pinching at his nipples, alternating between the two peaks, imaginary-Sanzo sped up the movements of his lower fingers, smoothly wanking Gojyo as the man began to pant. The pleasure that was radiating from his true core felt better than anything had since…well, since that night a week and a half ago.

The hand on his nipples left off its delightful torture, instead starting to run down his side until it met its twin at Gojyo's cock. Rather than stopping there, the fingers continued to slip down, caressing crimson-fuzzed balls and making Gojyo groan loudly. The other hand sped even further, flying up and down his dick as his orgasm approached.

"Yeah…you feel so fucking good, Sanzo…" The redhead couldn't stop the words from spilling forth, speaking to a phantom image that was quickly sending him into the void of ecstasy.

When the hand on his balls crept around towards his ass, Gojyo knew he wouldn't last much longer. A single wet digit penetrated his body, awkwardly pressing in to brush up against the-…

"_SANZO_!" Gojyo couldn't hold back his cry as he came across the shower tiles, the finger in his ass being pulled out when he tried to stay standing by reaching for the wall. Bracing himself hard, the redhead stroked his dick through its final spurts, sparking lazy aftershocks up his spine.

Finally coaxing the last dribbles of come from himself, Gojyo leant against the wall, lazily revelling in the sensation of water tracing down his blissed-out body. Not making a move to speed up the cleaning of his form, Gojyo stayed as he was for several more minutes before turning off the shower and wrapping a towel around his waist.

In the lingering heat of the late afternoon, it didn't take too long before Gojyo was dry, bar his hair, without actually having to do anything except stand in the bathroom on exhausted legs.

Pulling the towel off and rubbing it through his tangled red mane, Gojyo walked through to his bedroom after leaving the damp material on the floor. He collapsed naked onto his mattress with a yawn, only just remembering to set his alarm. It wouldn't do to nap through his 'appointment' with Rick later that night, even though he still had hours before he was expected.

Sated and tired, it didn't take long for Gojyo to fall asleep after his powerful orgasm. The satisfaction he felt wasn't enough to stop the dreams, though, and the redhead spent almost his entire nap imagining the various things he could do with Sanzo, just as soon as he managed to catch the man again.

He had the strangest, nearly instinctive feeling that he would come across the blonde again, despite the man's parting words on Sunday. Maybe it was divine intervention- if it was, Gojyo knew he was going to owe a Hell of a lot to the one who was overlooking this whole deal.

* * *

Sanzo ducked into the alley he'd seen the man he was following enter, squinting in the dim light to find the figure. Spotting movement up ahead, he hoped that it wasn't just a stray cat, and cautiously walked up to investigate.

Hearing something that sounded like voices, he stopped and concentrated hard.

"…the money…we'll do business."

"Yeah…you know…I want…"

There were definitely two people around here somewhere; it sounded like they were making a deal, but Sanzo couldn't hear what it was, or if his mark was even involved. Still, better to be safe than sorry…

Making sure to be as silent as possible, the blonde crept in the general direction of the voices. A number of indiscernible sounds were coming from up ahead, and Sanzo judged it to be coming from the adjacent alley about ten metres away. He moved to the corner, carefully re-checking that his gun was in the waistband of his jeans before peering around the corner.

The dim lights in the alley, so placed to deter only the most idiotic of drug users, gave the slightest illumination to the scene that greeted violet eyes. The first thing that Sanzo saw was the man he had been following, oddly positioned near the grimy wall of the laneway.

Then he realised _why_.

The man wasn't selling information, and he wasn't buying drugs. He was just about to fuck somebody- a hired somebody, most likely.

The prostitute moaned as they were swiftly entered- the blonde couldn't help but wince at the force behind the movement. The person's long hair was pulled backwards as Sanzo's lead hissed at them to shut up, before the target began thrusting into the whore from behind.

A most definitely _male_ whore.

The unknown guy shifted, body becoming partially illuminated in the alley's light. Sanzo caught a fleeting glimpse of familiar red hair before he was hit by a sudden memory: the recollection of himself in the same position his mark was currently in, stuffing the ass of the same redheaded hooker.

The remembered pleasure of that night washed over him, a better fuck than any of the men he'd taken before- not that there was a particularly long list. The bliss was soon chased away, replaced instead by a burning fury that outstripped anything the blonde had ever felt or witnessed.

Before he realised what he was doing, Sanzo had stepped around the corner and was stalking towards the two unaware men. Like a territorial animal, he could focus on nothing but the fact that _someone else_ was encroaching upon something he'd previously claimed; an entirely unacceptable scenario.

He'd never experienced anything like this before, but he wasn't about to stop and think it through.

He had an intruding bastard to slaughter.

* * *

Gojyo pressed himself against the dirty wall, hoping that Rick would let go of his hair before too much was pulled out. He breathed a sigh of relief when his head was released, and the client wrongly took that as a message to start thrusting madly, without a single iota of skill or finesse.

Clearing his mind to start building another fantasy, Gojyo yelped in surprise when he was suddenly left empty, and he heard his client start yelling. Looking frantically to the side to see what had happened, the redhead thought he was hallucinating as he saw Rick being dragged around a corner, seemingly by his long hair.

Hurriedly pulling his jeans back up and refastening them, stepping over the barely-used condom that was now on the ground, Gojyo ran down the alley and turned the same corner as a single gunshot rang out.

Looking down into a lit patch of alley, the redhead could see his client on the ground, at the brink of losing consciousness from a bullet in his knee with blood beginning to stain his still-unfastened pants. Standing above him was a man holding out a silver revolver, aiming it directly towards Rick's crotch.

Gojyo looked up, directly into the furious face of the attacker. He'd never seen anyone look so…_inhuman_, and the sight of Sanzo with fire practically leaping from his purple eyes shocked him to the core. What the _fuck_ was going on?

"SANZO! You psychotic _fucker! _What the fuck do you think you're doing?" The blonde man looked directly into Gojyo's eyes, sending a shiver of fear through him. His flight instincts were in full swing, and yet it felt like he was rooted to the ground.

The gun never left its position, still aimed directly towards Gojyo's knocked-out customer.

"I'm taking this prick down." The words were hissed out, and tanned skin crawled from the pure malice in the tone. Still, he had to stop Sanzo before the man went through with vengeful murder- Gojyo got the feeling that this was too messy, the blonde too emotionally involved, for this to be a simple hit like Banri had been. Sanzo had looked _nothing_ like this during that job.

"Why? I doubt that he ever did anything to you." Gojyo tried his hardest to sound reasonable, and for a second he thought that the gun was about to be pointed at himself. He swallowed hard.

Then, in a single second, the atmosphere changed. The frighteningly intense rage pouring from Sanzo disappeared, replaced by an air that Gojyo couldn't name. The gun was lowered from its position, moving to point harmlessly towards the ground.

When the blonde spoke again, it was in a carefully controlled manner that revealed no emotions whatsoever. "Forget everything, whore. Nothing happened here tonight."

Turning on his heel, Sanzo moved swiftly towards the street- but not swiftly enough. Intercepting the seemingly-bipolar man, Gojyo twisted his hand in Sanzo's shirt and slammed him up into the wall.

"This wasn't _nothing_, you asshole! You shot one of my regular customers! If word gets out that some dickhead is attacking my clients, no one's going to want to come within fifty metres of me! Why the fuck are you here?"

Gojyo could no longer see the man's face, having moved out of the light, but he could certainly felt the cool metal of the gun being pressed into his chin. "Let. Me. Go."

"Not until you explain what the fuck just happened!"

The sound of the hammer being pulled back broke through Gojyo's own anger, and he slowly let Sanzo go. The blonde straightened his shirt with one hand, using the other to keep the gun trained on Gojyo.

After several moments of silence, Sanzo lowered the gun and turned away to continue leaving the alley. This time Gojyo didn't attempt to stop him, but he couldn't resist one parting comment. "This isn't over, you son of a goddamn bitch! I'll get answers from you somehow!"

Watching the blonde disappear into the darkness, Gojyo slumped against the wall and slid to the ground. _'Sanzo acts like he hates me…so why pull a stunt like this? I swear, I'm gonna hunt him down and __**make**__ him answer me.'_

Pained groans from behind him made Gojyo jerk his head up, and he remembered Rick bleeding all over the ground. Standing up and slowly walking from the alley, heading for home, Gojyo pulled out his cell phone and dialled for an ambulance. He didn't like the man all that much, but no one deserved to bleed out in a dingy alleyway.

Gojyo ran a hand through his hair, sighing in irritation. His life had been so simple just two weeks ago; now, his boss was dead, he kept daydreaming and letting his guard down, and he was lusting after an insane gangster who might just have multiple personalities.

First thing tomorrow morning, he was going to track Sanzo down and finally finish what the blonde had started not that long ago.

There would be no more running.

* * *

*******I may revise this chapter later, but for now I'm going to move forward.*******


	9. Chapter 9: You Locate

"_FUCK!" _Sanzo hit his palm on the steering wheel as he cursed, accidentally sounding the horn at the same time.

He'd cocked up; badly. Shooting the man he'd meant to have been following _inconspicuously_ was definitely frowned upon, even if he was only injured- as opposed to dead.

He could only remember the bare details of what had happened: he recalled seeing Rick with the whore, and then everything was a little fuzzy until the point where Gojyo had come dashing around the corner. Other than that, the only certainty Sanzo felt was that he'd been intending to make the man suffer before he died.

It'd seemed like his body was on fire, as if some kind of blind rage had literally caused him to ignite. There had been no rational thought, no consideration of the consequences that his actions would have; everything had fallen away, except for the need to make the man die a slow and painful death.

And it would have happened, too, if not for Gojyo's interruption.

Sanzo still couldn't piece the final major element of his actions, though. _Why?_

Why had his temper snapped, so violently and recklessly?

Why was he so opposed to the sight of a whore doing his job?

Why did the thought of Gojyo fucking someone else cause such irrational _hatred_ to flare up in his chest?

Lost in thought, Sanzo accidentally cut off another car before running a set of red lights, causing a cacophony of horns and shouting to sound out into the night. The blonde didn't hear any of it; he was too involved in contemplation of his situation, with an added niggling worry about whether Rick had seen his assailant or not.

If the man had missed seeing Sanzo's face, then there was a slight chance that he could tell Dokugakuji that the whore had shot his mark. It wasn't really an unusual story; that sort of thing tended to happen when a hooker got paid upfront. It _might_ be a passable explanation.

Finally beginning to pay attention to the road, Sanzo swerved hard over two lanes of traffic and turned into his street, ignoring more yelling and honking. Flipping the other cars off through the open window, he pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building and turned off the engine, resting his head on the steering wheel as he tried to calm down.

It was too late for regrets now, and there wasn't much he could do about the consequences. He would deal with the two main issues, Doku's reaction and Gojyo's promise to hunt him down, when the time came that they could no longer be avoided.

Clearing his throat and stepping from the car, Sanzo's impassive mask was firmly back in place as he walked, straight-backed, up to his apartment. No one who saw him could possibly have guessed the whirlwind of thoughts and worries that was in his head, for which Sanzo was glad.

Acting like nothing was wrong was the first step for getting out of this as easily as possible, and that applied to both Doku's inevitable questioning and Gojyo's witnessing of his transgression.

He would deal with everything; he _could_ deal with it all.

Tomorrow.

* * *

Gojyo stood on the street in the late-morning light, looking up at the main building of Bosatsu Industries- the company where Sanzo had said he 'worked'. Biting his lip, the redhead wondered if this was such a good idea; he usually tried to avoid the various syndicates that snaked through the city's underground, because getting in too deep with them had a habit of coming back to bite you.

Gojyo knew that all too well.

So, even though he worked for a gang member, Gojyo kept his distance from organised crime as much as possible. He didn't even know basic information like the major players for each group; it wasn't like he paid attention to the city's news, anyway.

Yet here he was, about to enter the legal front for one of these syndicates, chasing a man who may or may not have even been there. It was the only possible path of action he could think of: Sanzo had, predictably, ignored every call that Gojyo had made to him that morning, and he didn't have so much as a last name to help him.

The only other facts he knew were the guy's physical description, first name- which was probably some sort of gang alias anyway- plus his phone number, which didn't assist a whole lot in tracking him down. There was just one path of action that Gojyo could see, and that was to try and trap him at work.

Taking a deep breath and fixing a charming smile on his face, Gojyo walked through the main doors of the building and made a beeline for reception. Sitting behind the desk was a pretty woman with long, dark hair; she didn't seem entirely interested, though.

Leaning lightly on the high desk, Gojyo flashed the young woman a smile that usually got him whatever he asked for. She blushed slightly and smiled back, which was a small victory in the redhead's books.

"Good morning…Yaone," he practically purred, glancing at the woman's nameplate. "I was wondering if you wouldn't mind helping me with a small request."

The poor girl looked like she was ready to follow Gojyo to the ends of the Earth, but he was impressed by the steady tone in her voice. "What do you need, sir? I'll try my best to assist you."

Leaning slightly closer in, Gojyo kept his voice smooth and low. "I'm looking for a man who works here- goes by the name of Sanzo."

Yaone's eyebrows drew together in a frown, and the redhead mentally swore. This _had_ been a little too easy, after all…

"I'm really sorry, sir, but the General Manager only had one, um, appointment this morning, and then he's out of the office for the rest of the day. I'm fairly certain that he has gone already."

Gojyo didn't miss the woman's hesitation when she talked about Sanzo's 'appointment', and he was fully aware of just what that business might have entailed. Clearly, Yaone knew that she was working for a crime boss, though she covered herself fairly well.

Still, what was he going to do now? Plan A was a dismal failure, and he hadn't thought up a Plan B. Oh well, not much he could do about that now.

"Ah, that's a shame. I'm sure I'll catch him some other time, so I'll just-…"

Gojyo paused when a familiar voice rang out, surely accompanying the footsteps he could hear behind him. "Good morning, Yaone!"

As he turned, Gojyo caught the way in which the receptionist's cheeks flushed bright red, and she smiled wistfully. Looking at the source of the voice, the redhead found what might just have been his saving grace.

"Hakkai!" Seeing the polite brunette walking up the elevators, Gojyo ran over as the man looked towards him.

"Oh, Gojyo! I didn't recognise you there. How are you today?" Hakkai stopped where he was, waiting for the redhead to approach him with a friendly smile on his face.

"I'm good, thanks. Listen, man, I really _desperately_ need your help. It's about…it's about Sanzo." Gojyo was close to begging, knowing that Hakkai was his best chance of getting the information he needed. He just hoped that the man was happy to divulge…

"I'm sure I can try. Hold on, let's take this into the empty office here." Motioning for Gojyo to follow, the brunette walked into an open room and waited for Gojyo to pass, closing the door after him. Offering the redhead a seat, Hakkai sat down opposite.

"Now, Gojyo, what can I do for you?"

The redhead wondered how he was going to put this; eventually, he decided that putting everything out on the table was probably best. He didn't know why, but he felt that he could trust Hakkai to keep this silent.

"Y'see, I really need you to help me find the bastard. I have to talk to him- last night, he…he came across me with a client, and something in him…I dunno, it was like he snapped or something." Gojyo hesitated, suddenly worried about how much trouble this might get the blonde in. He was pissed off, but he didn't want to get Sanzo killed!

"He hurt your client, didn't he." Hakkai seemed to understand where Gojyo was headed, which was both a relief and a bit of a worry. The redhead just nodded, glancing down at his hands.

Hakkai sighed, looking vaguely annoyed- the first such expression Gojyo had seen from him. "That fool…If you don't mind me asking, Gojyo, have you two slept together?"

Gojyo snapped his head up, eyes wide. How had Hakkai guessed that? He asked as much, answering the man's question along the way.

The brunette laughed, face switching back to its usual polite façade. "Well, I can't see him personally befriending too many prostitutes, he didn't shoot you that day, and I _know_ that he is certainly more interested in men than women." Gojyo tilted his head to the side, about to ask the obvious question, when Hakkai kept talking. "Oh, he has never actually said anything to me, or anyone that I know of, but it really is quite obvious that he's gay if you observe him. Don't worry, though, I'm not one to judge about such things."

Gojyo nodded, glad to have the other man's understanding. For whatever reason, Hakkai's opinion was somewhat important to him, even though this was only the second time that he had met the guy.

The brunette began to stare into the distance, eyes not focusing on anything in particular. Gojyo recognised the look as being one of a person deep in thought, and so he stayed silent.

"…Well, it seems I was right…but anyway, Gojyo, what do you need to know about Sanzo?"

"Sorry, but right about what?" Gojyo couldn't let the man's offhand statement pass, something about it seeming important. Hakkai looked uncertain for a moment, as if he hadn't realised that he'd been speaking aloud, before smiling gently.

"Oh, nothing. Just something I said to Sanzo on Sunday." The topic was clearly closed, judging by the authoritative undertone in Hakkai's voice. Shrugging, Gojyo got to the heart of the reason for his visit.

"I really need to talk to him, but he's ignoring my calls and I can't track him down _anywhere_. It's a massive favour to ask, but…you wouldn't happen to know where he lives, would you?"

Hakkai's smile widened, and he immediately picked up a nearby notebook, scribbling down an address and handing the page to Gojyo. The redhead took it, amazed that Hakkai had complied so easily.

"Thankyou so fucking much, Hakkai. I owe you a massive favour, you're the best!"

Hakkai shook his head, his entire face lighting up. "Don't worry yourself about it. It would do that man a lot of good to have someone special in his life."

Gojyo nodded in agreement before the meaning of Hakkai's words sank in. Eyes widening, he began a vehement denial. "You think…oh, Hell, it's nothing like that! I just need to straighten him out, make sure he knows that if he pulls a stunt like this again, I'm gonna kill him. It's nothing like…just, no."

Hakkai's shoulders shook with silent laughter, and he had to clear his throat before speaking. Amusement was obvious in his voice, and a genuine smile brightened his green eyes. "If you say so, Gojyo. Now, if that's all you need, I really must go. It's been lovely meeting you again, though, and I'm glad I could help."

Mind still reeling from Hakkai's obvious misreading of the situation, Gojyo blinked a few times before thinking to speak. "…Yeah, that's all. Thanks for all your help, but please don't mention to Sanzo that I told you this. He'll kill me."

Hakkai nodded, and the two men spoke their goodbyes before Gojyo left the room and the building. Hailing a cab, he showed the address to the driver and leant back into the seat, imagining the various ways that this confrontation could go.

Hopefully, the man wouldn't be home. That way, Gojyo could put his years of thieving into practice and pick Sanzo's lock, hopefully getting the jump on the man when he finally did get back. Then, the ball would be firmly in his court.

Gojyo smiled mischievously, secure in the knowledge that he'd finally be able to trap the blonde in a place that he couldn't escape from.

'_Check…and mate?'_

* * *

Sanzo stalked along the hallway to his apartment, scowling furiously. Doku had seemed to buy the story about Rick being shot by his whore- who Sanzo swore he hadn't recognised- but had been in a particularly bad mood already, meaning that he'd then sent the blonde on about a million inconsequential errands.

They hadn't taken long, but they'd been ridiculously boring and Sanzo was glad to be home, away from the idiotic cesspool of wasted DNA that was referred to as 'humanity'.

Turning his key in the lock, Sanzo stepped inside his dark apartment, slamming the door and stripping off his shirt in one smooth movement. It was just too frigging hot to bother with clothes. He reached behind him, palm knocking the light switch on.

Running a hand through his hair, toying with the notion of tying it back or just cutting the whole stupid lot off, he let out a surprised yell when the ground suddenly began rushing up to meet his face.

A hand slammed into the back of his head while another arm ripped the revolver from the waistband of his pants and, judging by the sounds made, slid it far across the floorboards and into harmlessness.

Instinctively struggling, Sanzo found himself eventually immobilised as his face was pressed into the floor, someone kneeling on his upper back and twisting his right arm painfully upwards. Still trying in vain to escape, Sanzo wondered vaguely whether Doku had found out about his lies and had now sent someone to dole out a punishment. "Get the fuck off me! I'll murder you!"

Laughter came from above, incensing Sanzo further. "I don't think so, asshole. Too bad for you, my ground holds are killer."

The blonde could have screamed. An assassin sent by Doku was far preferable to…_this!_

"You bastard! What the fuck are you doing? Let me go so I can slaughter you!" Sanzo doubled his efforts to escape, cursing himself for being careless enough to get caught unawares. How did the whore get into his apartment? How had he even found it?

Pain lancing through his twisted arm and where his head had bounced off the floor, Sanzo had to still himself to avoid from shouting at the unpleasant feeling. Gojyo used the opportunity to flip the man over onto his back, knees firmly pinning pale arms to a bare chest and two fingers pressing lightly into Sanzo's trachea, ready to do a _lot_ of damage.

Opening eyes that he didn't know he'd closed, Sanzo stared directly up into crimson irides and the smirking mouth of his trespasser. An unidentifiable sensation rose in his stomach, twisting together with immeasurable amounts of pure rage to make him shake slightly.

"Get the fuck out!" Sanzo hissed the pointless words, knowing full well that he had lost, even if he didn't want to accept that fact. He hadn't expected Gojyo to come after him so soon, if at all- apart from the calls earlier, of course. This was the last thing he wanted to deal with right now; but it seemed that he wouldn't have a choice.

Fuck.

"I think you already know that ain't gonna happen. I have a few things to ask you, and I'm not letting you go until you've answered me. I could easily straddle you all night, sexy, because this is worth blowing off work for once."

Turning his head to the side, Sanzo finally gave in to the inevitable.

He was completely at the mercy of this irritating, intruding and, most of all, _addictively _gorgeous man.

"Fuck you, you little redheaded shit."

"Gladly. But the interrogation comes first."

* * *

*******Volume 5, page 48 of the original manga, anyone? Also, I'll try not to leave this hanging for more than a day or two, if I can manage it.*******


	10. Chapter 10: We Liaise

Gojyo settled his weight, resting firmly on Sanzo's torso while still keeping the man's arms in place using his knees. The blonde's legs were unrestrained, but there wasn't much he could do with them- his core was completely grounded.

If Gojyo wasn't so pissed off, he'd be utterly turned on. As it was, he felt a little aroused, but that was buried far beneath the layers of anger and curiosity. He finally had Sanzo helpless and completely at his mercy.

The possibilities were endless.

…Okay, now Gojyo was more than just a _little_ aroused, but he had other important things to deal with. Like ripping Sanzo a new one before the prick hospitalised his entire clientele base. "I'm guessing that you know why I'm here."

Sanzo didn't speak; he didn't move. All attempts at escape ceased and he simply stayed still, as if he could get rid of Gojyo by ignoring him. It was a mediocre plan at best, but the redhead could appreciate Sanzo's force of will.

If it had been Gojyo on the bottom, he would've started with the frottage already. Dammit, why did Sanzo have to be such a cold bastard?

"C'mon, man, you're not getting out of this until I get some answers. You might as well start talking."

"Fuck off and die!"

It was a start, at least, but Gojyo found his patience running out. Why couldn't Sanzo just accept that he'd been bested? Actually…maybe…he needed to feel like he truly had no choice…

Taking his hand off Sanzo's trachea, the redhead reached back and drew the small blade from his shoe. He was playing a dangerous game here, but this might just work…

"Y'know, I'm pretty fuckin' angry with you right now. Do I need to bleed the answers out of you?" Pressing the knife into a pale neck with gentle pressure, enough to dent but not break the skin, Gojyo called upon all the times he'd been asked to dominate a client. Going all-out violent wasn't an option, unless he was planning on being murdered once Sanzo inevitably got free; he had to be forceful without causing any real injury…and the underlying sexual aspect of it didn't hurt, either.

"What d'you say, asshole? Shall I," Gojyo leant further forward, bringing his face closer to Sanzo's while staying out of headbutt range, "cut you? Hurt you? Make you scream in pain? Let me hear your voice."

Sanzo's head snapped around, narrowed eyes looking directly into Gojyo's sadistically amused face. When the redhead's knife moved, the point drawing blood just underneath a pronounced collarbone, Sanzo's left eye twitched. Gojyo wasn't sure if that was a good sign, or a bad one; he needed to push further.

"I'll start easy. Why were you around that alley?" When Sanzo didn't answer after close to a minute, Gojyo began to drag the knife in a shallow line towards the blonde's nipple. It wouldn't scar, and it wouldn't even bleed that much; but the important part was the message it sent.

Gojyo was aware that Sanzo probably knew that he wouldn't _actually_ harm him. The redhead just needed to create the illusion that Sanzo had no choice but to answer; it would mean that the pinned man got to keep most of his pride, which seemed to be the thing holding him back.

"What were you doing there, Sanzo?" The knife returned to the line of Sanzo's neck, resting right where Gojyo was getting desperate to place his lips and tongue. The pale skin was so enticing, and Sanzo's scent was utterly intoxicating…Gojyo wasn't sure how much longer he could hold out before he ravished the man, completed interrogation or no.

Finally, after what felt like aeons of nothing but the sound of breathing, Sanzo growled out the reluctant response, "I was working."

Gojyo managed to hide his shock at getting an actual answer, instead shooting the blonde his most dangerously sexy smirk. "Very good, Sanzo," he purred, "Now, what kind of work was it?"

Sanzo glared, clearly bored of talking already. _'Not good enough, my pissy little friend.'_

The knife drew a parallel line down from Sanzo's other collarbone, making blood swell to the surface without spilling too much. From experience, Gojyo knew that a cut that shallow would sting like mad without being truly painful, which was plenty to get the point across.

Still scowling, Sanzo hissed out an answer. "Tailing him. Suspected of selling our secrets."

They might not have been full sentences, but Gojyo was infinitely pleased that he was getting somewhere. Maybe he would be able to dredge up all the answers he wanted _before_ Sanzo realised how hard he was getting…

"One more, and then I'll be happy. Can you do that, Sanzo?"

More glaring. Gojyo pressed the tip of the blade against the hollow of the blonde's throat, leaning even closer until his nose was just centimetres from Sanzo's. "Why did you hurt him?"

Sanzo closed his eyes, turning his face away once again. There was the slightest pick-up in the blonde's breathing, a subtle increase that Gojyo only noticed because of his perch on the man's chest. God_damn_ he was beautiful, shirtless and sprawled out on his back, a thin sheen of sweat covering his pale skin, glossy hair spread out behind his head like some sort of halo…

Ah, shit. There was now no possibility of Gojyo hiding his hard-on; the only variable was how long it would take Sanzo to notice.

So far, so good…

Sanzo suddenly looked back into Gojyo's eyes, a deep resignation written all over his face. "Let me up, Gojyo. We both know that the knife is only for show."

Looking down at his hand and the blade, then back into violet eyes, Gojyo smiled again. This time, though, the expression was indulgent rather than falsely cruel. When he spoke, his tone rumbled softly, having lost its dominating edge; the game was over. "Just tell me what happened…please."

Tossing the knife aside, letting it come to rest just near Sanzo's gun, Gojyo resettled his weight onto his knees rather than the blonde's chest. "Please. Just answer."

Sanzo shook his head, a little awkwardly due to his position. "I won't."

Sighing, Gojyo began to shuffle back slightly, hoping to put himself into a position where he could stand up without rubbing himself all over Sanzo. As fun as that would be, it didn't seem like the greatest idea- even if the man _had_ become somewhat docile over the course of his questioning.

Gojyo came to an abrupt halt when something _very_ unexpected started to press rather pleasantly into his ass.

Blinking furiously, the redhead tried to come to grips with his latest discovery. Looking down in shock, he saw that Sanzo was biting his bottom lip, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"You're _hard!_" Gojyo felt like a complete tool for pointing out the obvious, but he couldn't stop his exclamation. Sanzo's eyes flashed with anger, surely trying to come up with a pointless denial. "I'm n-…"

"Me, too." Smirking, Gojyo tilted his hips and let the blonde feel his arousal, praying that the man would let his little head overrule his big one- just as he must have done on that first night. Trying to signpost his actions as much as possible, Gojyo leant towards Sanzo again, slowly approaching his lips.

Gojyo had moved his knees enough that Sanzo could wrench his arms free, and one palm came to rest on Gojyo's shirt-covered chest. The redhead paused, bracing himself to be shoved backwards. Tensed as he was, he damn near fell straight forward when the fingers twisted in his t-shirt, pulling him down to capture his lips in a passionate kiss- the first the pair had ever shared.

"MMMPHH!" With that eloquent statement, Gojyo knew he was lost. If Sanzo changed his mind _now_, shit was gonna hit the fan. But, there was still one small doubt in Gojyo's mind: a doubt that might just force him to break this off here and now anyway.

Pulling back, though he almost dived right back in when Sanzo let out the smallest sound of disappointment, Gojyo placed his hand in the middle of the blonde's chest and cleared his throat.

"Sanzo…I need to know. Is this business? Are you going to throw money at me again?" He tried to keep his face blank, but Gojyo could feel worry breaking through ever so slightly. He was horny and he had the man he'd been dreaming about fucking beneath him; so close to the prize, and yet so far…

Beneath him, Sanzo snorted. The sound was mocking, yet it lacked the man's usual malicious edge. "This is probably the worst idea ever, but no. Get the fuck back down here, idiot."

Gojyo thought that he might just rip his face apart, the grin he now sported damn near beginning to hurt. "Whatever you say, prick."

He should've guessed that the Hellcat would be spitting and hissing the entire time, even after giving in to his natural urges. Not many men would be able to get away with something like that; but really, Sanzo was so fuckin' gorgeous that he could've gotten away with nearly anything in Gojyo's eyes.

Sliding backwards, Gojyo pressed his groin directly into Sanzo's, his head tipping back in a crimson curtain as he finally received some friction for his long-suffering erection. Gasping, it suddenly occurred to him that he was more than likely about to be fucked by Sanzo. _Sanzo_. The man he'd been dancing around for almost a fortnight.

He couldn't have been happier.

Long fingers curled around the back of his neck, almost brutally pulling Gojyo down to recapture his mouth. The tongue that ran across the redhead's bottom lip had him opening his mouth, welcoming the invasion of the wet muscle. Personally, Gojyo wasn't all that experienced at kissing. It was, after all, one of the main rules of prostitution: no making out. He'd picked it up pretty quickly, though, in the few times that he had actually done it.

When Sanzo flipped them over, not breaking the connection of his lips on Gojyo's, the redhead winced as the hard floor pressed painfully into his still-sore ribs. Sanzo noticed Gojyo's tensing, and sat up with a questioning expression on his face.

"Fractured rib…it's a long story. Take me to bed, Sanzo?" Gojyo had never considered himself the sentimental type. It was kinda hard to be, growing up with only one family member who would talk to him, and living the second half of his life by giving out emotionless sex. But here he was, trying to work it so that he could have his first consensual, non-paid fucking in the other man's bed.

He really was getting soft in his old age. Not only the bed thing, but he hadn't managed to chew Sanzo out about what the man had done…although screwing was definitely a more _satisfying_ option.

Sanzo looked uncertain for a moment, as if he was wondering whether he could actually handle the intimacy implied by proper bed sex. He then sighed and rolled his eyes, standing up while pulling Gojyo with him. "Whatever, princess. C'mon."

Heart beating fast in anticipation, Gojyo followed Sanzo across the apartment's main area and up to a closed door. Sanzo pushed through into the room, stopping a few steps in when he realised that the redhead was no longer following.

Turning with a sigh, Sanzo let out the slightest laugh at the sight of Gojyo standing just outside the threshold, head poking inside the room as he looked around in wonder. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Gojyo's head jerked towards the blonde, as if he hadn't realised what he was doing. A little sheepishly, he tried to cover with a vague insult. "Oh, sorry, I just figured that you slept in a little pod or something…maybe a coffin…and that's if you even slept at all."

"Tch, idiot."

Gojyo was suddenly pulled into the room by the front of his t-shirt, which was then unceremoniously yanked over his head. He only just gathered the clarity of mind to raise his arms and let the material leave his torso, before stepping forward as Sanzo threw the shirt aside. Linking his hands behind the blonde's neck, arms thrown over his shoulders, Gojyo pressed the length of his upper body to Sanzo's. Bending his head down to kiss the man once more, Gojyo lost himself in the feeling of smooth, pale skin, and a cigarette-tainted mouth thoroughly claiming his own.

Moulding himself further into Sanzo, pressing his thigh between the blonde's own, Gojyo pulled his mouth away and latched it onto the neck he had been so completely entranced with earlier. He was careful, though, to keep his mouth away from the dried-out lines of blood slightly lower down. Running his tongue over Sanzo's pulse point, the redhead experienced an inexplicable burst of pride as he felt the quickly-thudding area, and knew that _he_ was the one who caused the aloof man's heart to beat so quickly.

Sanzo moaned at the feeling of Gojyo's tongue, one of his hands moving to press into red hair as its partner slid down to flick open the other man's belt. Hand trembling ever so slightly from unfulfilled need, he quickly undid the button and zipper on Gojyo's loose cargo shorts. As they dropped down of their own accord, Sanzo vaguely noted that Gojyo must have previously ditched his shoes elsewhere, though this was quickly overshadowed by the _far_ more interesting discovery that the redhead had obviously decided against underwear that day.

An impressively-sized, rock-hard erection stood proud from a base of dark red curls; obviously, the hair colour was natural. Sanzo hadn't really checked on that first night, though he _had_ wondered.

It was only here, at the point of no return, that Sanzo could truly be honest with himself. He didn't give a fuck about the fact that Gojyo was- usually- a whore; the man was beautiful, and Sanzo wanted him. Badly.

And if Gojyo didn't stop doing that with his tongue, he was going to find himself thrown onto the bed with Sanzo's cock up his ass in approximately three-point-four seconds.

Luckily for him, the redhead left off Sanzo's neck, instead dropping to his knees and smoothly opening Sanzo's suit pants. He nuzzled at the precome-damp spot on the man's light-coloured briefs, smiling at the muffled groan that Sanzo let out. The intimate smell of the blonde's most private area made his head spin, and he couldn't take it anymore: practically ripping Sanzo's underwear away, Gojyo finally got to engulf the man's cock with his mouth, one hand subconsciously creeping down to simultaneously stroke his own dick.

"_Fuck_…you're good at that…" Gojyo had to release himself at Sanzo's panted exclamation; otherwise he really _was_ going to 'release himself'. Sliding his lips along the blonde's shaft a few times, keeping his suction as perfect as he could, Gojyo eventually pulled back as Sanzo moaned in annoyance at the loss.

Standing up, he pressed the length of his body against the pale man once again. "I can't wait any more, gorgeous…I need you to fuck me."

Gojyo let out a very un-manly shriek as hands gripped his waist, Sanzo using unexpected strength to toss the taller man down onto the bed. Pressing his lower half onto Gojyo's, he looked down mockingly. "And just what in the Hell was _that?'_

Flashing a grin, Gojyo ran his hands up Sanzo's sides before answering. "I was just getting into the role of the woman. I'm assuming that you're gonna be screwing me, and not the other way 'round."

Sanzo nodded sharply in agreement, a small smile spreading across his face. Gojyo could be an annoying little prick, but he also seemed like the human incarnate of eroticism. This was going to be a lot of fun…

Grinding down onto Gojyo's crotch, Sanzo reached across to his dresser, pulling open a drawer and bringing out his usual necessities: condoms and lube. Pulling himself upright with one long, slow slide of his body against tanned flesh, Sanzo quickly rolled a condom onto his aching cock before trying to figure out where he'd set down the lubricant.

When Gojyo's slick hands ran unexpectedly up his latex-covered erection, Sanzo couldn't help but cant his hips forward. The sensation of long fingers dancing over tender flesh; it was breathtaking.

Gojyo let go of the blonde's erection, lying back as the afternoon light poured in through a large window, making Sanzo's skin glisten with sweat. He was...beautiful.

Lifting Gojyo's leg, Sanzo pressed forward until the limb was sitting over his shoulder. The redhead's natural flexibility made it easy for him to still lie comfortably, and he opened his body to a waiting Sanzo. "Do it, gorgeous."

In a single smooth stroke, Sanzo entered Gojyo's willing body, encountering minimal resistance along the way. He forced his mind away from thoughts of _why_ penetration had happened so easily, instead focusing on the rhythmically blissful clenching that Gojyo was performing. Moaning deeply, he began to thrust, growing from small strokes to long, hard slides inside Gojyo's body.

"God, Sanzo…_Ah!_" Gojyo damn near yelled as the blonde angled his thrusts, sliding right over his prostate and causing a flash of white stars in front of his eyes. He was already so tightly wound up; they both were. This first time wasn't going to last for long, but it was only the afternoon. Gojyo would have bet money that they were going to screw a few more times before the end of the coming night.

The redhead could already feel Sanzo's hips beginning to stutter slightly, waves of pleasure coursing through him as surely as they were through Gojyo. It was good to know that Sanzo wasn't going to last very long, either.

"Sanzo…touch me…" Gojyo heard himself coming close to begging, but he didn't give a flying fuck. When a pale hand wrapped around his cock, it took massive amounts of willpower not to come right then. Breathing hard, Gojyo thrust up to meet the slide of both Sanzo's hand and his dick, tangling both hands in shining hair as he pulled the man down for another searing kiss.

It didn't take long for Gojyo to break the kiss, needing to gasp to get some oxygen back into his body. "I'm…I'm almost t-there…fuck, Sanzo, _yesss…"_

When Sanzo's hand involuntarily sped up around his cock, Gojyo lost the very last of his control and arched against the mattress. He felt himself falling, slamming downwards into nothingness as he found his release with an ear-splitting scream.

The muscles tightening around Sanzo, along with the utter sex appeal of Gojyo's raw cry, had the blonde instinctively pushing himself as deep as he could inside the other man, his cock jerking as it spilt inside its latex sheath. However, Sanzo didn't yell; he merely let out the quietest of breaths, the exhalation barely forming the two-syllable name of the man beneath him.

Holding his body as still as he could until his cock had finished spurting, only vaguely aware of the spreading stickiness between pale and tanned stomachs, Sanzo eventually pulled himself out of Gojyo- much to the redhead's disappointment. Sanzo kept Gojyo's leg in the air, though, slowly lowering it so that Gojyo didn't hurt himself; a gesture that didn't go unnoticed, even if the redhead made no mention of it.

Rolling over to lie next to Gojyo, both men panting heavily, Sanzo reached down to remove and tie off the condom, tossing it in the general direction of a rubbish bin. Despite the fact that he was very nearly blissed out of his mind, Sanzo couldn't help but grumble when Gojyo began twisting himself around the blonde.

"S'too hot for that…and we're sticky. Get the fuck off."

"Suck it up. Shower later; 'm tired now. You'll live for an hour or so."

Dropping his head to the side to glare half-heartedly at Gojyo, Sanzo lost the annoyed expression when he caught sight of the redhead, curled up against him with the most self-satisfied expression Sanzo had ever seen. He made sure to keep his tone as insulting as he could, though.

"_Someone_ looks ridiculously pleased with themselves."

Gojyo cracked one eye open, its bright scarlet colour still somewhat astounding to Sanzo. If the hair was real, the eyes _had _to be contacts.

"Of course I am," Gojyo paused, yawning, "That was the first time I've ever screwed someone and _not_ been paid in one way or another."

Sanzo's eyes widened as the meaning of that sank in. There was so much that he couldn't even _begin_ to guess about his current bedmate…

When he was entirely certain that Gojyo was asleep, the sound of his breathing having evened out, Sanzo wrapped his arm around Gojyo's bare form without any regard to the afternoon heat. Looking down at the lanky man, he whispered his response to Gojyo's question- the one he hadn't answered.

"I was…jealous."

* * *

*******SANZO! What the Hell? You weren't supposed to give in yet! Son of a bitch, this is what happens when I write while listening to HIM's cover of 'Rendezvous with Anus' (yes, really)…but then again, how many more improbable 'so, we meet again' scenarios could I throw these two in? Don't worry, though, I still can't see this ending soon. Every time I answer one plot issue (such as getting past Sanzo's constant state of denial), a few more pop up in its place. Fan-tucking-fastic.*******


	11. Chapter 11: We Reflect

*******Because I've been asked, and I have no clue as to the answer, I'm putting this to you lovely people: Does anyone know _why_ Saiyuki fics use the character number references (3, 5, 8 and 9)? Please hit me up if you have any idea where this came from. We shall solve the mystery!*******

* * *

Sanzo tipped back his head, letting the warm water beat down on his face and cleanse his body.

Not that he felt like he was particularly dirty.

It was this revelation that kept him in the shower, away from the man still sleeping soundly in his bed. When Sanzo had, for once, thrown himself entirely into the heat of the moment, he had expected to come out on the other side feeling unclean and deeply regretful, as well as murderous towards Gojyo for his little stunt.

Instead, as the first light of morning had started to bleed through his open curtains, Sanzo had woken feeling relaxed and satisfied. This was _despite_ the fact that there had been a completely naked man lying half on top of him, and that Sanzo had been naked as well.

He'd given into Gojyo again, and again, and again. He had felt absolutely no regret about doing so.

It was only there that the alarm bells had begun to ring. The relaxation he felt had fled, replaced instead by a familiar tension that was, in its own way, comforting. He'd carefully extracted himself from Gojyo's near-smothering embrace, and had escaped to the bathroom to wash away the sweat and dried come produced by their various rounds of screwing.

Twenty minutes later, he was still underneath the spray, trying to convince himself that the best plan of action was to walk into the front room, collect his gun and shoot a new hole in Gojyo's face.

It wasn't working.

The only person he was annoyed at was himself, for not being able to stay aloof and apart from everyone else. He didn't hate Gojyo for pushing so hard, or for ambushing him…

Glancing in the fogged mirror, Sanzo caught sight of the two parallel lines running down his chest. They were barely noticeable with the dried blood washed away, and when he ran his index finger down one, it didn't sting at all.

He had to give Gojyo credit for that one. The man had created an illusion of minor torture without actually harming him, and it had worked. Sanzo had caved, completely and truly.

Having been perched upon his chest, Gojyo had flooded all of Sanzo's senses. The way he had looked so dominating, smelled so tempting, sounded so seductive and felt so very good…

It had made Sanzo want to quell the curiosity of his final sense- to taste the man.

He slapped his palm against the tiles of the shower, snorting in annoyance. He was a fool and a complete dumbass…but he was a well-fucked dumbass. If he'd thought that going one more night would help him get Gojyo from his system, then he was painfully, horribly wrong.

He would _never_ admit it to the man, but Sanzo vaguely hoped that Gojyo would keep pushing. He was beginning to enjoy the thrill of the chase, and the gratification of the pay-off.

* * *

Lazily stretching his arms above his head, Gojyo tried to avoid opening his eyes to the light. He could feel in his bones that it was _far_ too early to be awake, and yet he could hear the shower running somewhere off to the side. '_Fucking early risers…'_

A buzzing tone had Gojyo cracking his eyes open, looking for the source of the distraction. His cell phone?

No. _Sanzo's _cell. Smirking, Gojyo picked up the ringing device after making sure that the shower was still running. '_I'm going to die for this…but it's worth it!'_

Quickly looking the phone over, Gojyo hit the answer button. "Sanzo's cell."

"Sanzo! Get your fucking ass…wait, what was that?" The booming shout dissolved into a regular, confused tone, making Gojyo laugh.

"I said, Sanzo's cell."

There was a moment of silence. "Uh…you didn't happen to rob a pissy blonde guy, did you? Steal his phone?"

At that, Gojyo lost it. Cracking up with laughter, it took him almost a minute to bring himself back under control. This was going better than expected. "Nah, he's just in the shower right now. He'll probably murder me if he knew I answered his call, though."

The disembodied voice snorted with amusement, then made a noise of agreement. "I think you're right…hang on, why _are_ you answering his phone? Sanzo doesn't have friends."

"I answered 'cause he's never gonna tell me anything about himself, so why not have a chat with whoever's calling him at…holy fuck, it's like seven-thirty in the morning! On a Saturday! You're an asshole, man." Still half-asleep, Gojyo's internal filter wasn't up and running yet. It didn't even occur to him that insulting the unknown man might not have been the greatest idea. Luckily, the guy just laughed.

"Yeah, I am. But enough about me. Why are you with Sanzo this early? Like I said, I've never heard of him being around pretty much anyone."

"Hey, I'm just as surprised as you. I figured I'd be out on my ass as soon as he finish-…"

Gojyo abruptly stopped, Hakkai's words from the previous day coming back to him. "_Oh, he has never actually said anything to me, or anyone that I know of…"_ Dropping his head into his hand, the phone still pressed against his ear, Gojyo groaned. '_Shit! Now I really am dead!'_

There was more silence from the other end of the line, before the amused voice eventually returned. "Well, _that_ is certainly an interesting statement. Do you mean to tell me that…how should I put this…that you _fucked_ the grumpy little frigid virgin?"

Shaking his head in disbelief, Gojyo sat up properly in the bed. Who was this guy? Oh well, he was already screwed, so why not go the whole hog…

"Not at all."

"What?" The pure confusion in the voice had Gojyo smiling. He was enjoying this far too much.

"_He_ fucked _me_. Repeatedly. Oh, and he _definitely_ wasn't a virgin…the frigid part wore off pretty quickly, too."

Gojyo had to hold the phone away from his ear when a loud, deep laugh nearly shattered his eardrum. Between cackles, the man managed to get out, "I…I like your style, kid! Wow…Sanzo's _gay_…that explains a lot, really…"

"_Please_ don't tell him I accidentally outed his ass, he's already tried to kill me enough as it is." Gojyo figured that he should try and save himself, even though he had no idea who this guy was, or what he was to Sanzo. If the blonde found out about this conversation, he was _never_ going to let Gojyo back into his bed…a scenario that the redhead found completely unattractive. He'd had a really good time, and he thought- or hoped- that Sanzo had too. Just as long as he hadn't fucked it up by answering the phone…

"Yeah, you got it. It'll be good to have this bit of info over that prick…thanks for that, whoever the Hell you are. He's gay…_gay!_"

Gojyo was just about to introduce himself when he heard the shower cut out. "Shit! Sanzo's on his way back. Call again in a few minutes, he'll answer."

"Alright. Thanks, kid." The conversation ended, Gojyo carefully putting the phone back where he'd found it before curling into the bed, feigning sleep. Listening intently to the footsteps he could hear from the bathroom, wherever that might have been- he didn't really go exploring the previous day- he tried to even out his breathing.

Through one slightly-opened eye, Gojyo watched as Sanzo stepped into the bedroom through a cloud of steam, wrapped only in a towel. The blonde barely spared him a glance, though Gojyo did notice that the man seemed to be moving as quietly as he could.

Was that out of kindness, or just the desire to avoid an awkward 'morning after'? Gojyo didn't know, and he didn't care. It was what it was, and nothing could change that now.

He'd finally had sex without gaining anything but multiple orgasms in return.

Gojyo had to fight hard to stop a smile from reappearing on his lips, lest it alert Sanzo to the fact that he was being watched. That became more difficult when the man's towel dropped to the floor, Gojyo being in the perfect position as Sanzo bent over to pull on some underwear and jeans.

'_I have to have that ass one day. I __**will**__ have that ass one day!' _Naked and loosely curled up on top of the bed covers, Gojyo's now-hard cock would have been complete visible to Sanzo, had the man taken the time to spare a second glace at the 'sleeping' man. It was getting harder for the redhead to feign sleep, so he was glad when Sanzo's cell rang again.

Still shirtless, Sanzo glared at the vibrating gadget before walking over and jabbing at it. "What?"

Gojyo found himself wondering whether Sanzo always answered the phone like that, or if he was just particularly pissy today. Deciding that it didn't matter, he began to make a show of waking up: stretching, yawning, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, it was the perfect imitation of a legitimate return to consciousness.

Sanzo only momentarily glanced towards the bed at the noise and motion, busy listening to a voice that Gojyo couldn't hear, with a bored expression on his face. "Mmm-hmm…whatever…Fine, I'll be there whenever the fuck I feel like it."

Gojyo sat up, crossing his legs and draping his arms over his lap to partially hide his erection. Not that it really mattered; it could always just be passed off as morning wood, rather than Sanzo-watching arousal. He sat in silence, gazing on as Sanzo put the phone down and turned back to his wardrobe.

"Who was that?" Curiosity as to whom he'd been on the phone with overwhelmed Gojyo, and he couldn't help but ask the question. Sanzo jolted, as if he'd forgotten that the redhead was still lounging in his bed. He didn't answer or turn around, instead pulling out a shirt and slipping it on. It was only then that Sanzo acknowledged Gojyo, staring over at him with a contemplative look.

"Morning, gorgeous," Gojyo tried again, flashing Sanzo a bright smile. It didn't affect the blonde's expression in the slightest.

"My boss. I'm going to work, so let yourself out. The door deadlocks." Sanzo buttoned his shirt, depriving Gojyo of the last of his new favourite vision. He glanced towards Gojyo with a slightly awkward look on his face, as if there was something else he wanted to say. However, he seemed to think better of that idea, turning away towards the door.

"Sanzo." Gojyo waited patiently as the blonde stopped, eventually turning back again. He lazily lifted one hand, silently beckoning Sanzo towards him. It took quite a while for the man to obey, but Gojyo didn't mind. It was Sanzo, after all.

The blonde looked stiff, uncomfortable; when he finally came within arm's reach of Gojyo, he stopped and scowled a little.

Reaching up, Gojyo grabbed the neck of Sanzo's shirt and pulled him down, crushing his lips to the blonde's and sliding his free hand through soft hair. When Sanzo's tongue started to push into his mouth, he met it with an enthusiastic groan, twisting his own around the muscle.

When Sanzo firmly gripped Gojyo's bare shoulder and pulled away, the redhead let out the smallest groan of disappointment, and he could have sworn that the very corner of Sanzo's mouth twitched up in amusement.

Gojyo lifted two fingers to his forehead, tilting them towards Sanzo in a miniature salute. "I had fun last night. Let's do it again sometime, hey?"

"Tch." Leaving his answer ambiguous, Sanzo walked from the room. Dropping back into the bed, deciding to get a couple more hours sleep, Gojyo ignored the rather pleasant heat in his groin and closed his eyes.

They'd been up until three in the morning; he'd think all this through _after_ getting more than four hours sleep.

* * *

Gojyo sat in Sanzo's kitchen, eating a burnt piece of toast. He'd eventually wandered out of the bedroom at a little after noon, and had found that certain cupboards in the kitchen had been left open: specifically, the crockery, cutlery, breakfast foods and toaster had all been put on display. Gojyo had laughed at the gesture, endlessly amused by how the man showed, rather than spoke, the fact that he could tolerate the redhead _somewhere_ inside…if the whole 'sleeping together' thing hadn't already made that clear.

He'd had some time to think everything over, from the fact that he'd finally caught Sanzo again to his accidental outing of the man. Gojyo still couldn't get his head around the fact that the amusing man on the phone had, quite possibly, been the head of a crime syndicate: he'd sounded nothing like the redhead had imagined, but Sanzo _had_ said that it was his boss.

What a mindfuck!

Crunching away on his toast, Gojyo took the chance to look around the apartment properly. When he'd arrived the previous day, he'd staked out the door and hadn't exactly moved about. Now, he figured he was free to poke around as much as he wanted; what Sanzo didn't know, wouldn't hurt him.

Gojyo stood up from the table, starting to wander through the apartment. He wasn't all that surprised with what he found: no photos, not much junk, almost obsessively clean. Sure, the man had enough stuff to live comfortably, and most of it seemed moderately expensive, but he obviously wasn't big on flashy gadgets and useless crap. The place didn't even come close to being a 'home'- not that Gojyo had much experience in that particular department.

Finishing the last of his breakfast, Gojyo gave one last look around the somewhat austere apartment before deciding that he'd better leave. He didn't know when Sanzo was going to return, and as much as he wanted to stay and wrestle the man back into bed, he also had a job to go to.

For one of the first times since he had started at the club, he wanted to chuck a sickie for non-hangover-related reasons. He had no desire for anonymous, unfulfilling sex, and that left a sense of unease in him. It was just his profession; one night with Sanzo shouldn't have changed the way he viewed sex.

And yet…it just might have.

Gojyo felt the slightest worry that he was going to end up too deep in something that he wasn't sure he could handle. He had never allowed emotion to come into sex; but last night, he had experienced something new, something that he had never felt before.

For once in his life, he hadn't been an object. Despite Sanzo's condescending attitude and the constant insults, Gojyo had been an equal rather than just a hole or a cock. It had felt…nice.

Sighing and shaking his head, Gojyo walked over the where Sanzo had placed his knife at some point, picking it up off the counter. Tucking it back into his boot, he was about to leave when an idea occurred to him, drawing him from his worries and making him smile.

Pulling the belt from his shorts, he walked to the bedroom and threw it in the corner. Providing that Sanzo didn't just throw it out, he now had a reason to come back.

Gojyo checked the time and decided that he really had to leave, if he was planning on making it to work on time. He'd called in last night saying that he had a private client; but he really had to go in to the club tonight. Even if all he wanted to do was tell Zak to go fuck himself, and jump into Sanzo's bed to wait for the man's return.

Finally leaving the apartment, hearing the door lock itself behind him, Gojyo took a deep breath. If he knew what was good for him, he would jot this down as a one-off performance and never look back…

Gojyo had never been very good at doing what was good for him. In this case, he wasn't even sure if he could take that path; Sanzo was under his skin now, creating a near-constant lust that he couldn't control.

And that damn near scared the shit out of him.


	12. Chapter 12: We Remember

*******Thanks to lawless523 and Namaguza Bouzu, who both answered my question quickly and with a lot of detail! I really appreciate it.*******

* * *

Gojyo stood in front of his mirror, lightly tousling his hair to achieve perfect _im_perfection before moving back to inspect his entire outfit. Some loose lint that had fallen on his mostly-unbuttoned blue shirt was picked off, and the material was smoothed down across bronzed skin. After one last look-over, he added the final piece of his ensemble: the emerald and gold bracelet that announced his profession to the underworld.

The gentle weight of the jewellery made him sigh; in the same way that it told his price, it was also as good as a pair of handcuffs. He'd been made completely aware of _that_ almost two years ago, now.

**{~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~}**

_The sole of a shoe slammed down into Gojyo's stomach, wrenching him from unconsciousness as he coughed and spluttered, writhing in pain. Attempting to bring his arms around to soften any further blows, he found that he couldn't: coarse rope was biting into his skin, rubbing his wrists raw behind his back._

_The foot stomped down again, barely missing his crotch as Gojyo groaned in agony. A familiar, rasping voice spoke out from somewhere nearby, "What did I __**tell**__ you? Watch the face, and watch the groin! He's gonna need those."_

_Gojyo's still-scattered brain focused long enough to announce that it was Banri who had spoken, before retreating back behind a haze of pain. He had just enough sense to open his eyes to his surroundings; not that he could see much in the gloom of what seemed to be a basement or cellar. _

"_Oh, look, he __**is**__ awake! I like this one's spirit, Banri. You always did pick the good whores." Gojyo couldn't pick that voice, and his neck hurt too much to look for the source. Curling in on himself, he tried to remember what had happened._

_He'd been walking home…distracted by the fact that his plane to London was booked for the next day. A car had skidded up behind him and then…nothing. He had no memories after that horrible screeching noise._

"_Don't go passin' out again, boy!" Another kick, this time to the ribs, "Did you really believe that you could get away like this? You underestimated little ol' me, and I resent that."_

_Gojyo's heart sank as he finally recognised the man's distinctive accent and speech patterns. It was the horrid twang of a certain loanshark…Hazel Grosse._

"_H-…Hazel…" Gojyo tried to speak properly, but his throat burned and the words came out weak. How long had he been unconscious?_

"_Hmph, your mind is still workin', or so it seems. Maybe it might be easier to just pump you full of smack and tie you to the bed. That way you'll make me back my money, and we won't have to worry about you runnin' away. Are you gonna make me do that, whore?" Hazel finally walked into Gojyo's limited vision, crouching down to pull the redhead's face towards him. "But I do so adore the fire in your eyes. Even now, when you're on the ground like a fuckin' beaten dog…Good Lord in Heaven, I love it."_

"_Just k-kill me…" Weakly, Gojyo tried to hasten his death. If it was a choice between instantly dying or slowly fading from drug addiction, he was willing to hedge his bets for the afterlife. He didn't __**want**__ to die, but anything was better than craving nothing other than the next needle._

_Footsteps echoed around the room, and Hazel twisted Gojyo's neck to look at Banri as he approached. "I don't think so, Kappa. You make me a lot of cash, and I'm not about to give that up. That's why we had to stop you this time."_

_Gojyo somehow managed to bite back a scream as Banri brutally ripped out a chunk of his hair. "You thought you could take his money and run? You thought you could disappear like that? Let me tell you something, Kappa. You belong to __**me**__. You don't leave until I say you can."_

_Hazel laughed, a chilling sound that echoed slightly in the cold, bare room. "Now, now, Banri. Don't you be forgettin' that he's mine too. I'm the one he needs to pay back, after all."_

_The hand let go of Gojyo and he collapsed against the hard ground, where his head bounced off the concrete with a sickening thud. As he faded from consciousness once more, the memory that filled his mind was of a similar noise resonating from his step-mother, her skull cracked open by a simple lamp. _

_Only this time, Jien wasn't there to save him._

**{~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~}**

Gojyo ran his fingers over the side of his head, where a slight lump still caused him to get agonising headaches on occasion. He'd woken up days later in his apartment, wounds bandaged, borrowed money missing and a pack of strong painkillers by the side of his bed.

How he'd wanted to swallow the whole lot and never wake up…knowing that he was now indebted to both Banri _and _Hazel, he'd considered suicide many times.

But he just couldn't go through with it.

Some small part of his brain kept telling him that he could get out. That there would be a way, some plan that _didn't_ involve ripping off a merciless loanshark or dying, to leave his leashed life behind.

And so, almost two years later, he was still firmly under the thumbs of two men. Banri's position had been almost perfectly taken over by Zakuro, and Hazel sporadically reappeared to make sure that Gojyo never forgot where most of his earnings went.

As if he could.

Gojyo's ten thousand dollar, no-questions-asked loan had become much more than that, thanks to the fact that Hazel had reclaimed the original money and yet still demanded that Gojyo repay him- with ridiculous interest, of course. That way, Gojyo was forced to keep prostituting himself out to make the cash, which tethered him to Banri even further.

Looking into the red eyes of his reflection, Gojyo saw nothing but a kept man. It wasn't the prostitution that he had wanted to get away from; it had been the fact that he was another's possession, well and truly. Working for Banri had seemed like a good idea when he was alone on the streets, without any protection whatsoever; but then the reality of having a pimp had set in.

He could barely do anything without _someone_ watching; his freedom was nearly non-existent. He had borrowed Hazel's money, without any intention of paying him back, so that he could leave the country and start again as a free man. He'd actually been planning to go legal with the money; he just hadn't been entirely sure what he'd do.

Too bad that his half-baked plan had backfired, leaving him with two masters and a massive debt that was only half paid off.

Slamming his fist into the wall beside the mirror, luck alone keeping skin and plaster intact, Gojyo shook himself. Now was not the time to be worrying about something that he couldn't change; depressing himself wouldn't get the debt paid off.

Going to work, however, would.

Clearing his throat and drawing himself to his full height, Gojyo shook back his hair. The face in the mirror changed from an anguished fool into a sexy, confident playboy: the mask that he managed to wear most of the time. He smirked at his transformed reflection, ignoring the way that the expression didn't quite meet his eyes.

He would go to the club, and he would fuck a stranger. He would act like he was loving it, and he would make as much money as he possibly could.

And he _certainly_ wouldn't remember the way that he'd briefly woken up during the previous night, Sanzo's pale arm wrapped tight around him in a strangely comforting gesture.

Before he could fall into his mind again, Gojyo turned and left his bedroom…and the apartment that Banri owned.

* * *

When Sanzo arrived home after work, he was glad to find his apartment devoid of life. Taking a quick look around, he determined that nothing important had been disturbed, apart from the extra dishes in his sink.

The only excuse that he could come up with for leaving those cupboards open earlier was to stop Gojyo from hunting about. He didn't want a virtual stranger digging through his possessions…and yet, he had allowed the man to stay _alone_ in his apartment.

He'd trusted a whore to not rob him of everything he had. Sure, it seemed to have been a winning bet, but now that he was thinking properly, it had been the epitome of stupidity. There wasn't a person on Earth that he fully trusted, but he'd put his faith in a man he'd done little more than bang.

What in the Hell had inspired such a ridiculous act of fucktardation?

This was what happened when he turned off his mind and let his body take control. Complete and utter idiocy. If only Sanzo- the _original _Sanzo- could see him now…

Snorting in disgust, the blonde rethought that last idea. His adoptive father would probably have loved the fact that his antisocial 'son' turned into a complete airhead the minute he got a good screw. The older man had been the most laid-back person Sanzo knew, completely opposing his own cold, mocking demeanour.

He was sure that Gojyo would have gotten along with his father like a house on fire.

But the man had been dead for ten years now, and so he wasn't going to be getting along with anyone, thanks to the leader of a rival organisation who decided that Sanzo was disrupting their business. He had thrown himself in front of the thirteen-year-old Kouryuu when the group had burst into their home, and he'd been gunned down for his efforts.

Sanzo had spent the next four years searching for the man who had led the attack, gaining himself the name 'Sanzo' along the way from his determination to avenge his guardian. However, when he'd finally gotten close to his target, the man had been killed in a bloody coup by that organisation's soon-to-be leader: Kougaiji.

Sanzo had reluctantly given up, knowing that revenge was forever out of his reach. He'd thrown himself into work for Doku, taking out his anger on members of Kou's gang as often as he could. That pimp had been just another in a long line of dead bodies.

If he couldn't have the one member that he had wanted, he was going to destroy as many others as he could. A pathetic substitution, yes, but it made him feel marginally better about the fact that he had failed the one person who cared about him.

After that, he vowed never to let anyone close. Failure made him feel weak, and he refused to let himself be brought down by _that_. He had nothing to lose; he hadn't held anything of worth since the night he had held his dying father.

He shouldn't restart now. He didn't _need_ to ever see Gojyo again; he just wanted to. Wants were something that he didn't have to entertain, and so he had to break off with the man before he began to need. After all, this morning had proved that the man was bad for Sanzo's mental health. It was also still likely that the redhead was completely untrustworthy, despite what Sanzo's instincts weakly tried to tell him.

Looking up from where he was vaguely reading the newspaper, the blonde glanced at the clock. Ten forty-eight in the evening.

Completely unbidden, Sanzo's thoughts returned to Gojyo. It was a Saturday night…he would surely be working at the club. Regardless of the fact that its owner had died and been replaced, the joint was working almost as well as it had previously. Taking out Banri had done very little in the short-term.

As such, Gojyo would probably have found himself a john for the night; just the next entry in a list that Sanzo had already joined…twice.

Sanzo blinked rapidly as a realisation dawned. He still couldn't bring himself to be disgusted by that fact. The only thing he felt was a growing anger…a smaller-scale version of that which he had felt in the alleyway.

Someone else was fucking Gojyo; someone who probably didn't appreciate how fucking beautiful the man looked as he came.

Sanzo suddenly became aware of a tearing noise: his fingers had involuntarily tightened around the fragile newspaper, ripping a hole directly through a report on industrial sabotage…or maybe it was about celebrity marriage- he hadn't been paying attention in the least.

Like a small child, he was furious that someone else had taken something that he wanted.

_Wanted._ Not needed.

He could not allow himself to need anything…least of all a gorgeous male _whore_.

* * *

*******If 'fucktardation' wasn't already a word, it is now! It was the best thing I could think of to describe that level of stupidity. (Fun fact: originally, I had 'fucktardedness'. Ugh).*******


	13. Chapter 13: You Call

*******I struggled with this chapter for a while, but having a bit of a chat with Aashyma finally got me off my ass (figuratively) and writing. Thanks for that!*******

* * *

Gojyo walked quickly through the back areas of the club, using his hair to keep the side of his face covered from view. Unnoticed, he slipped in through the back of the bar, grabbing some ice and wrapping it in a damp tea towel. The side of his face was- yet again- beginning to colour and swell.

He'd almost definitely deserved it this time, though.

The night had started off well enough. Once he'd finally made it to work, the comfortingly familiar atmosphere of the club had helped him forget everything- except for the work he had to do. The pounding music and flashing lights of the club had drawn him in, enveloping his mind until a hedonistic fog took over his senses.

He _wanted_ to fuck; he wanted to give himself over to the pure pleasure that could come from having another pressed to his body.

It hadn't taken him long to find a customer. The man, a tall but plain-looking brunette dressed in gloriously tight red vinyl pants, had caught Gojyo's eye on the dance floor, and had immediately wound his way through the crowds to take the redhead by the wrist. It hadn't escaped Gojyo's notice that the man had been wearing a wedding ring- not that this was anything unusual, really.

Leading the guy through to the back rooms of the club, everything had been going as per usual. The heavy door that separated public from private cut the music to a dull murmur, and Gojyo had slipped into an open room with his current client.

"You top, right?" The man had sounded unsure, but when Gojyo had looked at him, his expression had been one of anticipation.

"Yeah." A small smirk had appeared on Gojyo's lips; it was always good to do the taking for once. He worked both sides with equal ease, but most of his male clients were too insecure in their sexuality to let themselves be fucked. Apparently, they could still pretend that they were entirely straight if they took a guy face-down…

It was only as Gojyo had set to peeling his customer from the vinyl pants that he'd realised something wasn't quite right.

The mind had been willing, but the flesh had decided to take an untimely vacation.

Gojyo frowned, his head tipped down so that the man standing before him couldn't see the expression. Usually he was ready to go by this point, but it had felt like all the blood had _left_ his groin.

He'd tried for as long as he could to cover it up, but no matter how many different fantasies he started to build, none lasted longer than the time it took to look at his client. His hands worked on autopilot the whole time, undressing and arousing his customer; but he couldn't get anything more than a brief flash of excitement for himself.

Gojyo couldn't work it out: the man wasn't repulsive, and he was getting to top. Yet there he was, having to stall for time so that he could wake his dick up.

Eventually, the man had noticed Gojyo's hesitance. It hadn't taken him long to work out that the whore he had picked up wasn't even hard, and naturally the brunette had taken this to be an insult to his pride.

One hard jab to the face later, and Gojyo's client had stormed out of the back room, leaving the redhead to curse himself, his body, the world and everyone in it.

Now, he was slouched against the bar storeroom wall, freezing his cheek off in the hope that he'd wake up looking human in the morning. Thank the gods that he hadn't run into anyone else getting from the room to here…

Why the fuck was this happening _now?_ He'd been doing this for eight years. Eight fucking years! And not _once_ had this happened; sure, sometimes he hadn't gotten hard when he'd been the one getting screwed, but _never_ had he done something like this when he was topping.

Banri had often told Gojyo that he was only good at one thing.

And now, it seemed that he couldn't even do that.

He needed a fucking drink.

* * *

Peeling the ruined page from the newspaper, Sanzo balled it up and threw it in the general direction of the recycling pile. He ran his palms up his face and through his hair, wincing when one of his fingers caught a knot.

Deciding that it was time to go to sleep so that he could escape from his thoughts for a few hours, Sanzo stood and stretched out. He wandered over to his bedroom, starting to dig through his wardrobe for something to wear to bed.

When his cell rang, he swore loudly. If this was Doku, wanting something ridiculous at this time of night, he was going to go over there and nail the man's phone to his forehead.

Still shifting through his wardrobe, Sanzo didn't bother looking at the display before he answered. "What?"

"That's not…not very nice, Saaannnzo." The voice on the phone giggled, and Sanzo groaned. It sounded like Gojyo- a very _drunk_ Gojyo.

"_I'm_ not very nice." He wasn't sure why he continued with the conversation; normally, he would have hung up the minute he realised that he'd been drunk-dialled.

"Awww, don't be l-like," Gojyo paused to hiccup loudly, "like that! _I_ think you're nice…Or, at least you…you're nice when you let m-me fu-…"

"HEY! Don't be a dickhead, you fucking dickhead. _Think_ before you open your mouth." Even though anyone who was listening to Gojyo wouldn't know who he was talking to, and no one could hear on Sanzo's end, he still flushed when he imagined what Gojyo might have been about to say. He could have sex, and he could think about sex; but he really didn't like _talking_ about sex.

"Sooorrryyyyyy, baby," Gojyo nearly yelled, not sounding anything remotely apologetic. Sanzo could tell that the man was probably only one more drink from passing out…most probably alone, in some shitty little bar somewhere…

"Don't call me that."

"Fine…I'm sorryyyyy, Mister Sanzo…shit, what's your…uh, your fuckin' last name?"

"I don't have one." It suddenly occurred to Sanzo that he had no idea of Gojyo's full name, his age, _anything_ other than where the man lived and worked.

"Whaa'? That's fucked, man…H-here, you can have my last name…I dun' want it…Holy fuck, you kno…know wha'?" The redhead was getting more and more slurred, the amount of alcohol he must have consumed catching up to him.

Sanzo had a bad feeling about what he thought Gojyo was going to say next…

"LET'S GET MARRIED!" Sanzo didn't know if he should laugh or yell. Gojyo had screamed into his ear, spiking a headache that had been quietly building for a while now. His drunken glee was obvious, as if he thought that all the world's problems would be solved if he somehow got to marry Sanzo.

The blonde pinched the bridge of his nose, dropping his voice to a dangerous growl. '_When in doubt, snap.'_

"You're _completely_ embroidered, you little pisshead. Where the fuck are you? I'm coming to take your drunken ass home."

'…_And then breaking your phone,' _he mentally added. He could live without drunken proposals from male whores, thank you very much.

"Awww, I _knew_ you liked m-me. I'm at…at…ummm…Oi, you! Where the fuck am I?" The last bit sounded distant, as if Gojyo was talking to someone around him rather than into the phone. There was a moment of background noise, like the sound of a cell being clumsily passed around.

When a voice returned, it certainly wasn't Gojyo. The new man sounded older, and a little pissed off. "Your friend isn't doing too well. He's been at it for a couple of hours already, so you'd better come get him before he gets into a fight…not that I think he can stand up."

"So I gathered. Where's the little fuckhead?" The strange man reeled off an address, and Sanzo placed it as being a bar down the road from the club where Gojyo worked. Something must have happened, if the redhead had been drinking for hours already, because it was only eleven. That wasn't enough for him to be through with a client, was it?

There was a little burst of selfish pleasure that Sanzo felt from that piece of conjecture.

* * *

Walking into the bar, it didn't take long for Sanzo to locate Gojyo. The place was moderately busy, but the man who was surrounded by a ridiculous amount of bottles and glasses stuck out fairly well. Shaking his head in disgust, Sanzo walked over the where Gojyo was resting his head on the table.

"Wake up, you fucking idiot." Sanzo started by gently pushing Gojyo's shoulder, but when the redhead didn't respond, he shoved harder.

"I'm _not_ carrying you. Get the Hell up." Gojyo finally stirred, looking blearily around himself. He looked like he was ready to pass out- or at least, that was until he spotted his 'saviour'.

"SANZO!" Gojyo suddenly sat upright, grabbing the blonde around the waist and squeezing tight. Coughing, Sanzo fought to free himself from the surprisingly strong hug. He eventually managed to wrench tanned arms from around him, and pulled Gojyo to standing.

The man promptly tipped over, clumsily pulling on Sanzo's shirt as he tried to stay on his feet. Rolling his eyes, the blonde positioned Gojyo so that he could get a decent hold on the man's waist. His nose wrinkled when he realised how badly Gojyo stank of booze, but he tried his best to ignore it.

He walked them both to the bar, letting Gojyo slump against the counter while he waited for the bartender to come over.

"Is his bill settled?"

When the man spoke, Sanzo recognised the voice as belonging to the person that he'd talked to on the phone. "Oh, he has a tab here. I'll fix it up with him on a…_better_ day."

Sanzo grunted his thanks before straightening Gojyo up again, grabbing him by the waist and pulling him out the door. The man wasn't helping the process at all, dragging his feet and very nearly becoming dead weight. Sanzo wanted to slap some sense into him, but he knew it wouldn't do anything except maybe hurt his hand.

"Come _on_, you stupid prick…let's get the fuck out of here." Just as they'd stepped out into the street, Gojyo suddenly began mumbling to himself.

"…stupid thing…can't do…" The mumbling was suddenly replaced by an angry yell, "Where the fuck were y-…you earlier? You really piss me off, y'know?"

"Are you addressing _me_, you ungrateful bastard?" Sanzo was fuming; Gojyo was drunk off his ass, and yelling at him for not being there? If this was the thanks he got for picking him up, Gojyo was going to find himself missing a few teeth.

"Huh? Ohhhh, noooo…I was talkin' to that…" The redhead waved his arm a bit, seemingly gesturing downwards. Sanzo brushed it off as drunken ranting, deciding that it didn't mean anything. He concentrated on walking his armful of idiot to the car, and trying not to overbalance.

Finally getting to where he'd parked, and practically throwing Gojyo into the passenger's seat, Sanzo stood up and stretched out. Supporting someone who was taller _and_ heavier than himself was hard work; he wasn't even sure why he'd bothered.

Walking to the driver's side, Sanzo slid in and looked across the where Gojyo was slumped down, his head lolling to the side as he started to fall asleep. Sighing in annoyance, he leaned across to buckle the man's seatbelt- as much as he wanted to let the man go through the windshield, he didn't want to have to buy and fit a new one.

He was startled, but not particularly shocked, when a mouth suddenly latched itself onto his neck. In his awkward position, Sanzo had to search for a leverage point before he could pull himself away- that was the _only_ reason why he didn't push Gojyo off immediately. Finally detaching the man and fastening the seatbelt, Sanzo rubbed his neck.

There was definitely going to be a mark there tomorrow.

"Fucking _bastard!" _Seething, Sanzo glared at his passenger, who just stared blankly out the window. He seemed to have passed the talkative stage he'd displayed on the phone, and Sanzo was infinitely pleased. The last thing he needed was to be subjected to endless chatter as he drove the man home.

Starting the car, Sanzo began pulling out of the parking lot. He could feel eyes on him, and he glanced across. Finally noticing the bruised state of Gojyo's cheek, he slammed on the brakes.

"What the Hell happened to you?" His voice came out angrier than he had expected; Gojyo seemed to flinch slightly at the tone.

"It was…was nothin', Sanzo…deserved it…" For whatever reason, Gojyo's beaten wife impression pissed Sanzo off to no end. The man was in no way helpless, so why was he acting like it?

"Don't be an ass."

Luckily, before the conversation went any further, Gojyo's head tipped back and his eyes closed. Sanzo watched for a second before turning back to the road, peeling out into the street and following directions that he vaguely remembered.

Finally pulling into a familiar looking parking lot, Sanzo turned off the car and prepared himself for the walk to Gojyo's apartment. He briefly considered leaving the man in the car, but decided that he didn't want to risk getting vomit on his interior.

Hauling the man from the seat, he began the awkward trek to the elevator. Eventually making it, he set the barely-conscious man in the corner of the small box and stretched his arms. They were getting cramped from having to hold on to Gojyo's waist so tightly.

The doors opening on the eighth floor, Sanzo grabbed the redhead's waist once more, practically dragging him the last few metres along the hallway. Stopping in front of Gojyo's door, he shook the man awake.

"Get your keys." The redhead's fumbling was terribly slow, and Sanzo was getting more and more impatient. When the man finally pulled a key ring from his pocket, Sanzo snatched it away and shoved it into the lock.

"Thank youuuuuu, Sanzooooo." Gojyo awkwardly lowered his head until he was at eye level with Sanzo, shooting the blonde a tired-looking grin. Sanzo just glared back, shoving Gojyo so that the tall man stumbled inside his apartment. When the man simply leaned against the wall, Sanzo rolled his eyes.

Walking inside, making sure to close the door behind him, the blonde grabbed Gojyo by the front of his shirt. He wasn't entirely sure where the bedroom was, but he took an educated guess that paid off. Finding the bed in the dark, Sanzo pushed Gojyo down, ignoring the man's tired giggles and hiccups. Pulling the redhead's shoes off and tossing them in a corner, Sanzo grabbed the man's legs and roughly jostled him into a flat position on the bed.

His entire upper body aching from the effort, Sanzo glared down at the man- who was apparently now sleeping once more. '_Never. Again.'_

When an arm suddenly lashed out to grab onto Sanzo's belt, the blonde jolted. He hadn't even noticed Gojyo move.

"S-stay with me, babyyyy…" Gojyo's hand tightened, trying to pull Sanzo closer to the bed. Caught off guard, Sanzo stumbled forward until his legs hit the mattress.

"Why should I? You'll just vomit all over me." Despite his words, Sanzo didn't try to pull Gojyo's hand away. His body was reacting to the possible implications of what Gojyo had said, even if his mind knew that the man was about a minute from an alcohol-induced coma.

"Because I looovveee you, man."

Sanzo's heart skipped a few beats.

"You're completely fucking trashed, and you're about to pass out. You don't love me; you'd say that to a goat if you saw one." Sanzo was proud of the way that his voice didn't shake once. '_He'd __**better**__ just be talking out of his ass…'_

"Oh…I s'pose you're right…_Stay_!" Gojyo's slurred tone suddenly hardened, and he gave a sharp tug on Sanzo's waist. Still shaken from the redhead's earlier words, Sanzo lost his footing and tripped against the bed, landing awkwardly on the mattress alongside the redhead.

Gojyo promptly released Sanzo's belt, only to take up a tight grip around the blonde's waist. "Not goin' anywhere…stay."

Muttering in defeat, Sanzo gave up. Clumsily toeing his shoes off and flicking them away, he moved until he was more comfortable on the bed- not an easy task, with Gojyo keeping an iron grip around him. Damn, but the man was strong when he was drunk and determined.

"G'night, 'Zo." Promptly curling onto his side, Gojyo burrowed his head into Sanzo's neck, still keeping one arm tightly around the blonde's waist to make escape impossible.

A warm feeling slowly spreading through him, building out from where red hair was tickling his neck and where a tanned arm was weighting his torso, Sanzo finally gave himself over to sleep.

Gojyo pissed him off, irritated the living fuck out of him, and had recently made his life more complicated than it should have been; but right now, all he could feel was calm.

* * *

*******With regard to Sanzo saying that he doesn't have a last name, in this story his name isn't actually 'Genjyo Sanzo'. He picked up the nickname Sanzo as a tribute to his adoptive father, rather than as a title, so he's known solely as 'Sanzo'. No one in this universe really knows him by anything else.

…*Sigh*, drunk Gojyo…I blame that little development on listening to Frenzal Rhomb way too much. This definitely has a little bit of 'WFC' to it.*******


	14. Chapter 14: We Wake

Gojyo woke up on his side with a pounding headache, his throat dry and his mouth tasting like someone had shoved the contents of a garbage bin in there. The soft light that filtered through his window was making his eyes hurt before he even opened them, and he rolled onto his stomach so that he could hide away.

Or, at least, that was what he _attempted_ to do. When he actually tried moving, he found that there was something in his way.

Weakly trying- and failing- to push the obstruction away, he quickly gave up and grumbled at it instead. When it suddenly moved, he flinched away and accidentally tipped over onto his back.

"Stop moving, you annoying little _cockroach!_"

Huh…the thing could speak…and it sounded suspiciously like…

"Sanzo?" Gojyo's voice was hoarse, and he quickly slapped a hand over his eyes to keep the light away. Speaking was a bad idea…

"Congratulations, genius. Looks like you _didn't_ kill all your brain cells last night." The bed moved, and Gojyo assumed that Sanzo had also rolled flat. Still keeping his eyes covered, the redhead stretched right across his bedmate to pick blindly through his bed stand.

"What the _fuck?_ Get off!_"_ Despite the pain, Gojyo couldn't let that comment pass without twisting it around. He paused in his search, cracking one eye open to look properly at Sanzo.

"Oh, I will, as long as you help. Aspirin first, though." There was a moment of silence, as Sanzo figured out what Gojyo was on about. When it finally clicked, Gojyo started snickering and Sanzo tensed.

Still draped half across Sanzo's fully-clothed body, Gojyo finally found the packet of painkillers. Grinning in triumph, he started to pull back, but just as his ear passed Sanzo's mouth he heard the man draw in a quick breath. "STOP BEING A FUCKING JACKASS!"

The shout right in his ear made Gojyo yelp, and he dropped the packet as agony shot right across his head. Clutching at his temples, he was roughly shoved flat against the bed as Sanzo pulled himself from the mattress. The package of pills hit him on the nose soon after, and the combination of aches made him groan unhappily.

"Oh, quit your bitching. At least your cheek looks better today." With that snotty remark, Sanzo left the room as Gojyo started groaning louder. He now remembered just _why_ he'd gotten so completely shitfaced.

He vaguely wondered whether Zakuro had a 'three strikes' policy, or if he was immediately going to be out on his ass. The pain increasing when he tried to think, Gojyo gave up and popped a couple of pills, dry-swallowing with practiced ease.

Relaxing back on the mattress with his eyes closed, Gojyo breathed in the scent from Sanzo's still-warm half of the bed and slowly drifted back to sleep. From experience, he knew that he'd feel better when he woke up.

_Then_ he would figure out whether he still had a job, and whether Sanzo was legitimately pissed or just posturing for the sake of his ego.

* * *

A couple of hours later, Sanzo was still sitting in Gojyo's kitchen, nursing his third cup of coffee and his fifth cigarette. He wasn't entirely certain why he was there; he just knew that he didn't want to leave quite yet.

Maybe, he figured, it was because he was trying to avoid the incorrect assumption that he and Gojyo had been through a one-night stand, if any neighbours saw him.

Then again…they _had_ been a one-night stand…twice. Or did it not count when it was paid for?

Trying to work out the technicalities of a quick fling, Sanzo nearly missed it when Gojyo wandered into the room, fiddling with the few done-up buttons on his shirt. His attention was well and truly caught, though, when the redhead gave up and simply pulled the shirt over his head, discarding it onto the floor.

He could only watch bemusedly as Gojyo lifted his head, sniffing the air. Red eyes widened as he placed the scent that was floating around the kitchen. "Coffee! Cigarettes!"

Practically running to the coffee maker, Gojyo was already pouring his first cup before he realised that there shouldn't already have been coffee made. His head quickly whipped around, eyes coming to rest on Sanzo sitting at the counter, calmly pulling a drag on his cigarette.

"You're still here." Gojyo's tone was surprised, as if he couldn't believe that it wasn't just an illusion in his kitchen. Sanzo snorted with amusement.

"After I went to all that trouble of dragging you here, I didn't want you choking on your own vomit and dying."

Gojyo finished pouring his coffee, swallowing a mouthful before rubbing his eyes and looking blearily at the blonde. "So…what actually happened last night? I vaguely remember talking to you on the phone…and making you stay with me…but not much else."

Sanzo took the last few puffs on his cigarette before replying, stubbing the butt in a nearby ashtray. "Well, I was just about to go to bed when I get a phone call. It's you, drunk off your ass and trying to tell the world about Friday night."

Sanzo was pleased to note that Gojyo had the decency to look ashamed; that had been his aim. He wasn't really fussed about either of those points, but it was always good to keep the arrogant redhead on his toes.

"Then, I decided that you'd had enough to drink when you proposed to me."

Gojyo fumbled with his cup of coffee, only barely managing to set it down safely as he stared in disbelief. After a few seconds of tense silence, he began to laugh loudly. Sanzo felt himself shiver from the sound, a deeply sensual noise that sounded all the more enchanting for the rasp in Gojyo's voice…

"Really? Oh, _shit_, man! Why exactly did I do that?" Gojyo's shoulders shook as he spoke, amusement shining on his face. It lightened the circles under his eyes, and combined with the painkillers, the redhead was looking almost normal.

"You wanted to know my last name. I said I didn't have one, and you offered to give me yours. I assume that's where the marriage bit came in." Sanzo tipped back his mug, swallowing the last of his coffee. He held the empty cup out, waiting for Gojyo to take and fill it.

Surprisingly enough, he wasn't trying to limit the amount of words that he said to the redhead. Something about the man just…drew him into conversation.

Receiving the full mug back, Sanzo quickly nodded his thanks and took another sip. Gojyo sat down across the counter, rolling his unlit cigarette between his fingers with a thoughtful look on his face. "I think I remember the name thing…you mean, you really don't have a last name?"

Sanzo shook his head, not _entirely _bothered by the rather personal turn the conversation had taken. "No."

"So…is 'Sanzo', like, some sort of gang alias?" Gojyo tilted his head to the side, finally lighting his cigarette instead of playing with it. He looked down and tapped the ash off the end, before looking back up to meet the blonde's eyes.

"Not…_exactly_, but close enough." Sanzo rotated the mug in his hands, swirling the black liquid with _just_ the right amount of force to keep it from spilling out.

"So wouldn't you have had another name before that one?" Gojyo sounded genuinely interested, and that made Sanzo suspicious. The redhead _had_ to be up to something…right?

"Why do you care? It's not important." Sanzo's tone indicated that the topic had finally closed, but it was clear that Gojyo wasn't entirely finished.

"Sure it is. I mean, I don't know the fuckin' first thing about you. I'm just curious, s'all."

"You know what I do for a living. That's more than most people." Sanzo took a mouthful of coffee, wondering just how far Gojyo was going to keep pushing. He couldn't seem to bring himself to leave the redhead's questions unanswered, and he didn't know what else he was going to reveal.

He _also_ remembered what had happened the last time he had refused to reply to one of Gojyo's questions…

"Oh, really? Awesome! But seriously, didn't your parents give you a name? I mean, I know you said that you didn't have a mother, but…"

Sanzo's head jerked up in surprise. He didn't recall ever saying something like that…he would _never_ have given away such personal information.

"What the Hell are you talking about?"

Gojyo laughed again, and Sanzo found himself subconsciously relaxing; which, in turn, made him tense up all over again. "You don't remember? The last time you were here you told me that you didn't have a mother, 'cause I told you off for smoking in my living room without asking permission."

Sanzo ran through his memories, trying to remember the conversation that Gojyo was describing. When it finally came back to him, he couldn't help but wonder what other personal details he'd accidentally given out to the redhead.

"No, I never had a mother, or a biological father- not that raised me, at least. I was an orphan, or some such shit." Sanzo hoped that giving out that bit of information would stop Gojyo from pushing into dangerous territory about the first Sanzo. The blonde wasn't willing to go there, but found that he also wasn't willing to immediately leave Gojyo's company.

The man had good, expensive taste in coffee, after all.

"Sounds kinda like me. My mom died having me, and my father died not long after I was born. The only reason my step-mother kept raising me was because she got a lot more money from my father's will that way."

Sanzo ran through that information, wondering exactly how that worked. Gojyo took the hint, spelling out the details. "She wasn't _really _my step-mother, but that was what she told everyone. My mom was my father's mistress, and he got the baby when she died. When _he_ died, his wife ended up stuck with me."

Gojyo sighed sadly, and Sanzo noticed how the man's fingers began to trace the twin scars on his cheek. Suddenly, his hand halted, and he looked up with a wistful smile on his face.

"But it wasn't all doom and gloom. My half-brother was a good guy; he used to help me out whenever she got drunk and pissed off."

Sanzo suddenly realised that he had leant slightly towards Gojyo as he had been speaking, and promptly straightened himself out again. Glad that the conversation had twisted away from himself, he tried to keep the man talking so that _he_ didn't have to. "Where's your brother now?"

Gojyo laughed again, but this time it was tinged with bitterness. "That's the funny part. I wouldn't have a fucking clue! He disappeared when I was nine, and he would've been…shit, man…he was probably eighteen or so. I haven't seen or heard from the guy since. Could be anywhere."

'_That's not funny at all…' _Sanzo didn't bother voicing his thoughts. It was obvious that Gojyo didn't find it particularly amusing either, despite what he'd said.

Another silence descended upon the kitchen, this time lasting almost a minute before Gojyo accidentally broke it, his stomach rumbling loudly. The shirtless redhead stood up, stretching his arms above his head with a deep sigh.

"C'mon, let's go get lunch. I'll shout, to say thanks for last night." Gojyo looked down, finally realising that he had been sitting there the entire time without a shirt. He glanced back at the still-sitting blonde with a smirk on his lightly bruised face. "_After_ I get changed, of course. I can't let the general public get too dazzled by my lovely nakedness."

Sanzo shook his head in disgust, tipping his head down to hide the tiniest tilt of his lips. Gojyo was a cocky asshole, but he had his amusing moments.

Glancing down at himself, Sanzo decided that his outfit was fine, even if he did feel a little rumpled from having slept in his clothes. Gojyo caught the look, and smiled brightly.

"I can lend you something, if you want…" The tone of his voice was purely mischievous, and Sanzo glared suspiciously.

"I'll be fine. I would rather not end up in a leather catsuit." The blonde shuddered, thinking about the horrible things that Gojyo would surely have brought out for him if he had agreed. Going out for lunch with the man was bad enough; being dressed like a slut was a whole other ball game.

But, if the man was offering to pay, Sanzo was happy to agree. He deserved a free lunch, after sleeping next to what smelt like a bottle shop all night and then being woken up by a shoulder repeatedly jabbing into his back.

"Oh, as _if_ I'd do something like that. I was thinking more alone the lines of vinyl hotpants, but whatever floats your boat, man." Sanzo stared at Gojyo, unsure as to whether he should beat the shit out of the guy on principle alone. If _anyone_ else had said something like that, in jest or otherwise, they would've had a gun in their face before the sentence was finished. But Gojyo…Gojyo seemed to take liberties that Sanzo allowed, for some godforsaken reason.

"Lighten up, gorgeous. Gimme a sec, and we'll go."

* * *

Gojyo darted back into his bedroom, grabbing the first t-shirt and pair of jeans that he saw. He didn't want Sanzo to start thinking; he didn't want the man to up and leave before lunch. Gojyo found that he _enjoyed_ talking to the blonde; after all, he'd practically told the man half his life story.

The redhead wasn't well-versed on having friends, but he figured that going out for lunch would be a good way to hopefully loosen Sanzo up a bit. The man looked _good_ on the highly rare occasions when he smiled or laughed, and Gojyo wanted to see more of that. He was fascinated by the mysterious man; and he'd always loved to unravel mysteries.

Quickly changing his outfit, Gojyo brushed his hair and tied up a piece of material, using it like a headband to hold the crimson strands out of his eyes. He was no longer worried about the club incident; he couldn't care about it when he had a somewhat open Sanzo at his disposal.

None of it mattered: Zakuro, Hazel, his debt…Gojyo was going to lunch with his gorgeous new friend, the guy who had quite possibly saved him from alcohol poisoning the previous night.

Hell, and if he was lucky, maybe he'd even get laid again.

As long as he could get it up this time, of course; but there was a small voice, a quiet yet influential little noise in the back of his head, which assured Gojyo that he'd be fine if he tried sleeping with Sanzo.

Last night was probably just random chance. A one in a billion moment that could happen to anyone, for any reason.

Gojyo was perfectly happy with that explanation, as he told himself before walking back out to rejoin Sanzo in the kitchen.

* * *

*******I debated whether to combine this chapter and the next one, but I decided against it due to length. Don't worry, it shouldn't take long for me to finish writing number 15- it'll either be later today or early tomorrow (my today, maybe not _your _today).*******


	15. Chapter 15: You Misconstrue

*******Whoops, don't you hate it when you go to write a line, but for some reason forget to _actually _put it down? I didn't mean to make Sanzo sound like the Immaculate Conception in the last chapter (though it is timely, with Christmas and all), so I went back and added the line that was originally meant to be there. Thanks for pointing it out, Ashima! Much obliged.*******

* * *

Sanzo had felt somewhat annoyed at the thought of walking down the street with Gojyo, but he eventually decided that it was the preferable alternative to being stuck inside a car with the man. At least this way, if he decided to leave, he could always just duck off or push the redhead in front of traffic…or maybe both.

At least the walk- so far- had been fairly quiet and uneventful. Gojyo had managed to shut his mouth for longer than ten seconds, and Sanzo hadn't seen anyone remotely important that he knew- not that he was expecting to, in _this_ part of the city. They had passed a couple of entry-level goons, who were pretty much the lowest common denominator in Doku's organisation; the guys had immediately rushed out of the way when they saw Sanzo walking towards them.

Naturally, Gojyo had caught the silent exchange, and he seemed to be hovering somewhere between amazement and amusement. He didn't say anything about it though, which Sanzo appreciated.

"Yo, Blondie, we're here." Gojyo's voice jolted Sanzo back into reality, and he only then realised that he had completely zoned out. Looking up, he saw that the redhead was standing by the doorway of a small café, gesturing for him to enter.

The blonde just glared at Gojyo, who was holding the door open, until the man shrugged and walked in ahead. Only then did Sanzo enter; he refused to have the door held for him like some sort of woman. It's not like they were on a fucking _date_ or anything.

He walked up behind Gojyo, who was in the midst of being tackled by a small waitress with long, blonde hair.

"Gojyo!" The young woman squealed, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. Sanzo couldn't see the expression on Gojyo's face, but he could guess that it was probably a bright grin.

"What's up, Rei? Haven't seen you in…God, it's been _years!_" Gojyo sounded genuinely excited, and Sanzo's eye twitched.

The redhead finally set the woman down, and he turned back to face Sanzo. "But we'll have to catch up later, 'cause", he turned back to the woman, "we're starving. Got a table for us, love?"

The girl, who was staring at Gojyo with obvious lust in her eyes, nodded mutely without even glancing at Sanzo. The blonde felt an immediate dislike for the young woman; she was…_irritating_. Her very presence was enough to piss Sanzo off.

Sitting at the table that the girl had led them to, Sanzo stared across at Gojyo after the waitress had left. "Who was that?"

"Hmm? Oh, that was Rei. We used to…_work_ in the same area back when I was…shit…I would've been about seventeen at the time. She's a little older than me; not by much, though."

Sanzo only noticed one part of that sentence.

"_Seventeen?" _Mouth gaping, he looked at Gojyo with disbelief. The redhead had been whoring himself since he was seventeen?

"She was just starting then, so I helped her out." Gojyo, who had been looking down at his menu, missed the expression on Sanzo's face. It had only grown more disbelieving with Gojyo's last sentence, as the blonde tried to wrestle with the fact that Gojyo had been doing _that_ since he was little more than a child.

"When the fuck did _you_ start?" Gojyo finally looked up at Sanzo's horrified tone, and he seemed taken aback by the still-gaping expression on the blonde's face. He dropped his head to look back at the menu, and quietly muttered a single word.

"Fourteen."

Sanzo blinked a few times, his mind telling him that he had heard wrong. What kind of a sick fuck would buy a _fourteen-year-old?_

Almost immediately, he reversed that thought. Sanzo, quite sadly, knew more than a few people who would happily take advantage of a kid like that.

"_Fourt-…_And how old are you now?" Sanzo realised that, in order to be properly outraged, he needed to know how many years the redhead had been at the mercy of every cashed-up jerk out there.

Gojyo cleared his throat and lifted his head, shaking back the bits of hair that had escaped from his headband. A confident light gleamed in his eyes, and he spoke with conviction rather than the shame that he had just been showing. "I'm twenty-two. This is what I do, Sanzo; it's what I've _always_ done. I get through life the way I have to."

Sanzo didn't reply; he simply kept staring at Gojyo, his mind stuck looping around the fact that the redhead, who was _younger_ than him, had been involved in prostitution for eight years.

It was disgusting, the fact that someone would put a vulnerable kid in a position where he thought that the only way out was whoring. Completely _abhorrent_.

Sanzo saw Gojyo's red eyes narrow suddenly, and the man's fingers clenched on the tabletop. Tossing his menu down, Gojyo stood. "Obviously, I offend your precious sensibilities. Sorry for staying _alive_. I'm not hungry anymore."

Sanzo could only watch as Gojyo walked quickly from the café, ignoring Rei as she said something that Sanzo didn't catch. He couldn't work out what he'd done, to clearly piss the redhead off so thoroughly…

Oh. _Oh, _shit.

Gojyo had seen the disgust written all over his face, and thought that it was directed towards him.

Sanzo hadn't been repulsed by what Gojyo had felt he needed to do; he had been revolted by the people who had put him in that position, and who had _used_ him in that position.

After all, Sanzo was in no way qualified to throw stones: by fourteen, he had been chasing his father's killer, and mercilessly eliminating anyone who got in his way.

He had really fucked up.

* * *

Gojyo stormed down the street, pushing roughly past more than one person as he silently fumed. Where did that _asshole_ get off on judging him? It wasn't as if he'd made the conscious decision to start whoring himself out; it had just kind of…_happened._

His head was starting to pound again, and that unpleasant sensation only served to feed his anger. He was tired, hungover and furious; this day just kept getting better and better.

Here he was, thinking that Sanzo could have been a good friend; a guy he could relate to, in some messed-up way.

Instead, he'd made the man look down at him with disgust. It had been written all over his face; Sanzo was thoroughly appalled by the fact that Gojyo was so used up. Goddamn, could he sink any lower? A murderer found him disgusting. A guy who could shoot down a pimp without hesitation, and beat the shit out of others without any provocation, thought that what _Gojyo_ had done was bad.

He twisted a finger in his hair, a subconscious habit that surfaced whenever he got worked up.

The only people who knew how long he had lived as a whore were either pimps or prostitutes themselves, and not even many of them knew. It _had_ occurred to him that ordinary people might not look kindly upon his past, but…but Sanzo wasn't ordinary. He wasn't supposed to be so thoroughly _horrified_ that Gojyo had started at fourteen.

Gojyo sighed to himself, missing the fact that he was causing people to stare. Things had been going a little too well, before last night. He should've known that it would all crumble down eventually.

He'd found someone that he physically _wanted_, and he'd had two of the best fucks of his life.

He'd even had the guy pick him up from a bar, put up with his drunken bullshit, and crawl into bed with him; no sex expected.

Nearly _everyone_ that Gojyo met expected sex. It was something that he had been used to for many years, even _before_ he took up selling himself. He hadn't bent over for the first guy to wave some cash around, after all. It had taken time for him to get used to the idea, and to get desperate enough to agree.

And yet…Sanzo hadn't pulled anything even remotely sexual last night. He hadn't done anything except _help_…but now Gojyo had pushed him away with the knowledge of what he'd done.

His fucked up past was too much for _anyone_ to handle…he just shouldn't bother trying to make anyone understand. It wasn't worth it.

He was nothing but a breathing sex doll; friends weren't something he deserved.

…Maybe it was time that he finally did _it_.

He hadn't been able to find the strength before, because he thought that there would be something better out there. He thought that he could leave it behind eventually; that the past would no longer matter.

Now, more than ever, he knew how false that was. When even a murderer didn't want to know him, there was no chance that anyone else ever would.

There _wasn't_ anything better out there. He was going to be a prisoner to Hazel and whichever new pimp appeared for the rest of his life, and no one was ever going to _care_. He was nothing but a whore; just another faceless, aging hole in a job where younger was better.

What would happen when he couldn't satisfy clients anymore? If Saturday night repeated itself? Hazel wouldn't magically decide to wipe his debt. When he couldn't pay anymore, he would be killed on the spot.

If he didn't have any control over his life…maybe he could hold the control over his death.

* * *

Walking into his apartment, Gojyo found that he couldn't move his mind from its current train of thought. He'd considered it before…he had come damn close to actually doing it on several occasions.

But there had always been that tiny spark of hope, the one that kept the pills in the bottle and the knife in the drawer.

Now, that spark was replaced by the memory of Sanzo's features…the sheer disgust that had been written all over his face when he found out how long Gojyo had been a whore. Hope was dead…maybe he should follow it. It's not like anyone would mourn; Zakuro would soon find himself another good-looking whore. Someone younger- someone who could actually perform.

There was a full container of sleeping pills in his bathroom, and a bottle of Jack in his fridge.

It would be easy…so fucking _easy_…

* * *

Sanzo sat in the café for almost ten minutes after Gojyo stormed out, pulling almost desperately on a cigarette. He noticed, and ignored, the glares that Rei sent in his direction; obviously, _someone_ was a little pissed that she couldn't gawk at Gojyo any longer.

Eventually standing, Sanzo made his way from the building, turning back the way he and Gojyo had walked. He needed to collect his car.

The redhead really was an idiot. He just _had_ to go and take every little thing personally, didn't he?

He'd do a lot better in life once he realised that not every little thing revolved around him. Maybe, if he pulled his head out of his ass, he would see that Sanzo hadn't been disgusted by _him_; he'd been disgusted at everyone else.

Sanzo understood what it was like to do something in order to survive- he'd done it himself when he tried to gain vengeance for his father.

He killed his first man at thirteen; a low-level thug who decided that robbing and raping a _child_ was easier than working and finding a consensual partner.

The man and his sick little gang had made the wrong decision.

Kouryuu had taken the gun from Sanzo's holster when the older man had died; he had fired it at another human for the first time to save himself only weeks later. And when the scenario had repeated itself not too many weeks later, Kouryuu had also taken the same action.

By the time he had adopted the name 'Sanzo', he had killed five men.

By the time he had realised that his father's killer was already dead, that number had jumped considerably. All that death…for absolutely nothing.

Now, the tally no longer existed. It was too difficult to keep up.

Sanzo was under no illusions that he was any better than Gojyo; if anything, he was worse. Gojyo had given pleasure, but he had given only death. The redhead should have been the one turning away in disgust.

Gojyo was such a fucking tool…a completely self-absorbed _airhead_ who took everything a little too far.

Sanzo should go over there and beat the shit out of the little prick; he didn't like being misunderstood.

Then again, it would probably just be easier if he used this as an easy way to distance himself from Gojyo. He could let it go here; end their acquaintanceship now, quick and simple.

The further that Sanzo walked, the more divided he became over what to do. He still had to go to Gojyo's building; his car was parked there from last night. There wasn't any way he could get around that.

But he didn't know if he should detour through to Gojyo's apartment and kick some sense into the man, or leave without actually entering the building.

He knew that he should abandon this…this _messed-up _friendship that seemed to be developing; it was just another useless connection that distracted his mind.

He didn't particularly _want_ to, though. That was the problem.

Throwing up his hands in disgust, Sanzo turned into the parking lot of Gojyo's building. All this shit was far too complicated; leaving immediately was the best possible solution that he could hope for. He walked over to his car, sitting in the driver's seat and putting the key in the ignition.

When he went to turn it, though, he found himself hesitating.

His other hand clenched on the steering wheel, knuckles going white from the force. Sanzo _knew_ that he should leave…but he was finding that he gave less of a fuck about his mind than ever.

"Fuck it all!"

Ripping his key from the ignition, Sanzo ripped the door open and slammed it shut. Quickly stalking along the same path as the previous night, he slapped the elevator call button, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited.

He was offended by the fact that Gojyo was dumb enough to misunderstand him; the man deserved another good whack in the face for his pigheaded attitude. He was going to get it, too.

The elevator finally arriving, Sanzo walked in and leant against the corner, head tipped down and arms crossed. The ride to the eighth floor was surprisingly quick, no one else calling the lift along the way. That was probably a good thing, for their sake.

When the box dinged once more, he stormed along the hallway to Gojyo's door. Taking a deep breath, he began pounding on the closed wood. "Gojyo! Get the fuck out here, you idiot!"

…No response.

"Don't fucking ignore me!"

…_Still_ no response. Sanzo was beginning to wonder if Gojyo hadn't made it home yet; it was possible that he had gone somewhere else first. The man had broken into _his _apartment, so maybe it was time for Sanzo to return the favour, and ambush Gojyo the minute he arrived…

Trying the door handle first, Sanzo was surprised when it didn't hit any resistance. He had seen Gojyo lock it when they'd left; maybe he _was_ inside, after all…

Slamming through the door, Sanzo stomped into apartment, looking around for the object of his somewhat irrational anger. "You _are_ ignoring me! Stop being a coward and get your ass out here!"

Gojyo wasn't in the kitchen, and Sanzo couldn't find him in the living room. Hiding, was he? The redhead was going to _pay_ for that…

Walking through the seemingly-empty apartment, Sanzo came to a closed door: the bedroom. _This_ must have been where the asshole was hiding his arrogant ass; Sanzo cracked his knuckles in anticipation, shoving the door open with a loud bang.

A second bang stopped him in his tracks.

Looking into the room, Sanzo saw Gojyo sitting cross-legged on his bed, a bottle of liquor shattered on the floor in a pool of liquid and glass. The redhead was staring at him in shock, the whites of his eyes as bloodshot as his irides.

Then Sanzo noticed the other bottle that Gojyo was holding…the pills.

"What the fuck kind of stupid idea have you got in your head _now?" _The blonde's voice was pure rage, his eyes wild as he took in the vision before him. Pills and alcohol…he'd witnessed this scene before.

"If you fucking kill yourself, I'll dig you up and kill you all over again! How many did you take?"

Gojyo didn't move, his face still uncomprehending. "What?"

"The pills, fuckwit! How many have you taken?" Sanzo approached the bed, snatching the cylinder from Gojyo's loose grip. Glancing down on it, he noted with relief that the seal was unbroken. Looking back up, he pelted the bottle in Gojyo's direction, catching him on the chin. "Asshole!"

Gojyo seemed to snap out of his stupor at the contact of the bottle, his eyes going from Sanzo to the mess on the floor. He blinked a few times before looking up again, focusing on Sanzo with a glare.

"What? Come to tell me how _filthy_ and _disgusting _I am? I don't need to hear it. Just let me die in peace."

Taking another step forward, Sanzo drew back his arm before slapping Gojyo full across his already-injured cheek. "You fucking dumbass! Why did you have to go and be such an _idiot?_"

"…Huh?"

"TAKE YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR ASS FOR FIVE SECONDS AND REALISE THAT NOT EVERYTHING IS DIRECTED AT YOU!"

Taking a deep breath, Sanzo forced himself to calm down. Seeing Gojyo about to put himself into a permanent sleep…it had shaken him up a lot more than he would ever want to analyse. Now that it seemed like the man hadn't done anything, he felt like an overreacting idiot.

"Why are you here, Sanzo?" Gojyo's voice shook slightly, and Sanzo realised that the redhead must have recently been crying. Really, the eyes should have been a giveaway, but Sanzo hadn't been focusing on those. He'd been…_distracted._

Sanzo dropped his voice to a hiss. "I don't like being misunderstood."

A strange laughing sound came from Gojyo; there was no happiness in the noise, just a self-deprecating bitterness that raised the hairs on the back of Sanzo's neck. "What was there to misunderstand? You're disgusted by me and the fact that I was letting people fuck my ass at fourteen."

Gojyo didn't flinch when the second slap landed across his other cheek. He barely reacted, his eyes downcast and shadowed. It pissed Sanzo off- just as much as the man's 'abused wife' act had the previous night.

"You self-absorbed dickhead! I wasn't disgusted by _you_; it was the sick fucks who screwed you!" Sanzo grabbed the redhead by the shoulders, shaking him roughly. Gojyo finally looked up, only to dart his gaze away the minute he caught Sanzo's eyes.

"Don't give me this shit! You have _such _a fucking persecution complex! I'm not judging you. Fuck, I killed a man at thirteen!" Sanzo covered his mouth, eyes widening slightly as he realised what he had accidentally yelled.

"S-…Sanzo?" Gojyo was leaning forward, one hand on his freshly-abused cheek and the other stretched towards the blonde. Sanzo stepped back out of his reach, swiftly turning away and leaving the room. Gojyo's arm dropped, and he felt his head begin to spin.

Leaning back into the bed, he started to giggle hysterically, unstoppably. He was still drunk. Still fucking _drunk, _and he'd almost made an irreparable mistake because of it. All because a guy he barely knew hadn't seemed to like the fact that he'd been a young prostitute, and his drunken mind had taken a depressing turn.

Sanzo was right; he _was_ a fucking dumbass.

And now he owed the man more than ever.


	16. Chapter 16: We React

*******I hope that everyone had a good Christmas or whatever you choose to celebrate, and if you don't celebrate anything at all, I hope that you didn't go too crazy from having to hear about other people's celebrations.

Here's my present to all my lovely readers and reviewers: a new chapter! Enjoy.*******

* * *

Gojyo kept up with his manic giggling until he could no longer draw enough breath; the sound then dissolved into horrible, gasping sobs, and he could feel his hands shaking. The adrenaline was wearing off- he was crashing.

_Hard._

He wanted to call Sanzo back and latch onto the man until he could breathe. It was as if he was a child all over again, curling up next to Jien while his cuts were patched and ice was pressed against his swelling, bruising skin.

Only this time, the pain had been caused by himself, not the alcoholic bitch who had married his father.

The memories of his brother and _that_ woman didn't help Gojyo to calm down, and he began to shake harder. He was still gasping uncontrollably, mind barely able to communicate to his body that he was going to be sick if he didn't stop soon.

Curling onto his side in the foetal position, Gojyo forced himself to take several long, shuddering breaths. No one was coming to help him through this; he had to calm himself down. Jien was long gone, and it hadn't seemed like Sanzo was going to appear back anytime soon. There wasn't anyone else in the world that he would voluntarily allow to see him like this.

Gojyo didn't realise that his sobbing had begun to subside; he was too busy attempting to hold down the nausea that he could feel rising within him. Since when had he considered Sanzo, the pissy asshole who did little more than insult the living shit out of him, to be on the same level as his older brother?

Then again…the man's reaction when he'd walked into the bedroom…the horrified rage in his voice…it had been so oddly _protective_…

Gojyo curled in even tighter on himself, still unaware of the fact that his violent sobbing had decreased into heavy breathing. He felt ill; he _had_ to be reading too far into Sanzo's actions. Any friend would react the way Sanzo had to Gojyo's attempted suicide…right?

Because that's all they were- friends.

_Friends_.

* * *

Sanzo walked down the hallway, hearing Gojyo's giggles turn into painful-sounding sobs. Entering the living room, he sank down in the closest chair, dropping his head back against the soft leather and closing his eyes.

He told himself that he'd sat there because he was too lazy to move any further; it had very little to do with the fact that he could still hear Gojyo's racking gasps from there, and that he would then know if the redhead stopped breathing for one reason or another.

Sanzo was still breathing hard himself, heart pounding at the fact that he had revealed the only secret he still had; _no one_, not even Doku, knew how early Sanzo had started to kill.

But Gojyo knew, now.

He had no idea why he'd spilt out the confession; his mind had been shattered into so many pieces, still trying to put itself back together after bursting into the bedroom and seeing Gojyo about to kill himself. He'd spoken without thinking, and he didn't know whether the outcome could have been any worse.

Something about the redhead completely fucked up his self-control, and that was dangerous. He should've just let Gojyo top himself and gone on with his life the way it had been, just over two weeks ago.

As if in reaction to Sanzo's thoughts, Gojyo's sobs drifted louder down the hall, harsher and more depressing. Squeezing his eyes tighter shut, Sanzo desperately tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut as his mind came to a realisation.

If the situation he had just walked in on ever repeated itself, he would do the exact same thing. He didn't want Gojyo to die…he _liked_ the man.

If he could only _tolerate_ the redhead, he wouldn't have panicked when he saw the bottle of pills. He wouldn't have dragged the man home the previous night, and crawled into bed with him.

And he _certainly_ would never have slept with the man on two separate occasions if he didn't like him.

Suddenly, the loud gasps that Sanzo had been monitoring in the very depths of his subconscious ceased. Without warning, the apartment had become quiet…_'Deathly quiet?'_

On his feet in a matter of moments, Sanzo barely noticed himself moving until he was standing at the door to Gojyo's bedroom, watching the man curl in on himself like a small child as he shook all over.

Sanzo let out a long breath, leaning against the doorframe for several more minutes. He witnessed Gojyo gradually stop shaking, his breathing becoming easier as he apparently exhausted himself. Finally, Sanzo knew that the redhead was asleep when his body visibly loosened and he began to mutter softly.

Watching Gojyo's back, Sanzo itched for a cigarette; he was unwilling, though, to take his hands from his pockets. He didn't want to know if his hands were trembling.

Eventually, Sanzo was certain that Gojyo was out of danger from himself. The man was sleeping soundly, if not for the intermittent mumbling. He couldn't make out much of what the man was saying, but Gojyo seemed to be repeating one word on a semi-regular basis: something that sounded like 'gin', or that may have been a name such as 'Jen'.

Trying not to think too hard on that, Sanzo forced himself away from the doorframe and his view of the sleeping redhead. He needed to go.

It was always possible that someone had been tailing him lately, even if he was _almost_ entirely sure that he was clean. If word got around that he had spent a long time at a whore's house over the last few days, things would undoubtedly become far more troublesome than they should be.

Besides, Gojyo was fine. He hadn't done anything to himself, and Sanzo's instincts told him that the redhead wasn't going to try anything else ridiculous. The man was twenty-two; he didn't need a guardian.

Concentrating on keeping his feet moving, Sanzo walked stiffly down the hall to the front door. Pulling it open, Sanzo stepped out, beginning to bang the door behind him in his usual fashion.

He aborted the slam halfway through, ensuring that Gojyo would stay asleep. He didn't want the man to wake and come after him; he wanted to get away cleanly.

But he knew, in the back of his mind, that he'd be back soon.

* * *

Gojyo woke with a gasp, his hand clutching at his scarred cheek to hold back the flow of blood that wasn't really there.

For the first time in _years_, he'd dreamt of the day when his mother had tried to kill him for the very last time, but had succeeded only in leaving the two long wounds. He had relived it all, from the horrific insanity in the woman's eyes to the sound her caving skull had made.

Most of all, though, he had felt his resignation to the fact that he was about to die, and his sick relief that he had lived after all, thanks to his brother's intervention.

It was exactly the same as the feeling that he had experienced before Sanzo had left the room. The blonde had saved his life earlier, just as certainly as Jien had done thirteen years prior.

Slowly rising from his bed, holding onto the frame as his head spun a little, Gojyo wandered out into his apartment. He knew that, with the way Sanzo had left the bedroom, it was highly unlikely that the man was still around; but he needed to know for sure.

It didn't take Gojyo long to ascertain that he truly _was_ alone. This time, Sanzo wasn't sitting in the kitchen like he owned the joint, drinking all of Gojyo's coffee and filling the room with cigarette smoke.

With a lingering glance at the seat that Sanzo had earlier occupied, Gojyo moved back into the living room and collapsed onto his couch. He didn't exactly remember _why_ he had decided with such certainty to commit suicide, only that it had seemed like the sole option in the face of Sanzo's apparent disgust.

He felt like a fucking Japanese Samurai, men he had heard about from a particularly weird client who killed themselves to cleanse their names of dishonour.

Not that he really had much honour to reclaim in the first place.

He really had a lot to make up for, in relation to Sanzo. Not only had he failed to thank the man properly for getting his ass home from the bar, but he owed the man his _life_ for unexpectedly arriving when he had.

Coughing slightly to clear his throat, Gojyo reached into his pocket, where his phone still sat from when he had left with Sanzo hours earlier. He barely glanced at the couple of missed calls that flashed up on screen, deleting them before pulling up his last-used number.

Sighing, he moved his head into a more comfortable position on the leather couch arm, before pressing the call button and holding the phone to his ear.

After _far_ too many rings, the line finally connected and a voice snapped through, "What?"

Gojyo's eyes widened slightly at the angry tone, and he swallowed audibly. "Hey, Sanzo…it's me. Gojyo."

"Well, _obviously_. I might use reading glasses, but I'm not blind; I can see the screen on my phone." Usually Gojyo would have laughed off something like that, but humour wasn't really at the forefront of his mind. He was…_nervous?_

"Oh, yeah…well, I, um…" Stumbling over his words, Gojyo found that his usual mask of confidence was nowhere to be found. He really _had_ regressed to childhood this afternoon.

"Spit it out, Kappa. I haven't got all fucking day."

At the use of the hated name, Gojyo rolled his eyes. He didn't know why he was bothering with the asshole…

Okay, that wasn't _entirely_ true, but the more insulting Sanzo became, the less indebted Gojyo felt towards him. At this rate, writing 'thanks' across the blonde's front door in spray paint was going to be enough to ease Gojyo's conscience.

"Fine. Come for lunch with me tomorrow." Gojyo found that it was getting easier to say what he wanted, his annoyance at Sanzo's attitude overruling any other emotions he may have been feeling.

"Why?" Sanzo had clearly gone back to clipped sentences, the question barked out quickly. Gojyo suddenly felt the urge to punch something.

"Because today didn't go so well. I still want to say thanks for last night…and earlier." Despite what he was saying, Gojyo's tone was annoyed. He'd tried to be civil; he should have remembered that sort of thing didn't seem to work on the blonde.

"_That's _an understatement."

"Look, are you gonna come or not?" Now entirely irritated, Gojyo didn't even bother checking his unintended innuendo.

Sanzo gave a put-upon sigh. "Fine. As long as it's at a quiet place, and sometime after one. Oh, and no throwing any tantrums this time."

Despite the way in which Sanzo made his serious mistake sound like a childish whim, Gojyo found himself relaxing through his anger. This phone call, this annoyingly _insulting_ conversation, felt familiar. Sanzo hadn't changed, despite what Gojyo had said to and shown him…and Gojyo found that he didn't see the blonde in a different light, even with what the man had accidentally blurted out before he had run off…something that he hadn't had the time to properly think about yet.

"Whatever, you prick. I'll see you at CeeJay's Café, tomorrow at two."

"Fine." The call promptly ended, and Gojyo dropped his phone onto the floor just below him.

Flopping his forearm over his eyes, the redhead let out a few small snickers. Sanzo was a complete and total dickhead- and Gojyo was _glad_. He was actually relieved that the man didn't show pity or concern; that wasn't what he needed right now.

Sanzo would drag him back to Earth if he ever stuck his head into the clouds of stupidity again, he was certain.

* * *

When a familiar name had flashed up on Sanzo's caller I.D., he had momentarily hesitated about whether or not to answer. Eventually, though, he had forced his voice into its normal range and put the phone to his ear.

He was proud of himself for maintaining a regular conversation, or at least what passed for one in his books. Falling easily into his usual safe haven of anger, Sanzo had felt relief when Gojyo had clearly been getting pissed off as well.

The redhead's anger had shown that he was clearly feeling somewhat better. The pathetic, broken creature that had been sitting on Gojyo's bed with two bottles in his hands wouldn't have gotten annoyed; rather, it would have gotten depressed.

But the man on the phone hadn't been that creature. It had been the Gojyo that Sanzo knew…or _thought_ that he knew.

If there was anything that today had taught him, it was that there was more to Gojyo than met the eye. _Much _more.

After all, the redhead had gotten Sanzo to agree to lunch in less than a minute. Quite a few idiotic people had tried that before; they'd all failed. Especially one person, who seemed determined to crack onto him every time their paths crossed…

Shaking his head slightly, as if to help himself rid his mind of thoughts about that particular prick, Sanzo sighed.

He'd thought it before, and he'd think it again: he most certainly was getting soft in his 'old' age. Maybe it was all the drinking, or possibly the smoking…

Oh, well. If he needed to, he could always cancel on Gojyo or just not show up. At least the café the redhead had picked was fairly out-of-the-way, and not somewhere that Sanzo was likely to run into anyone fond of asking invasive questions.

And, best of all, the chances of lunch ending in him carrying Gojyo home _had_ to be next to none. He didn't know if his torso could handle that sort of strain all over again.

'_Stupid drunk bastard.'_


	17. Chapter 17: He Appears

*******After that last chapter, where really, not much happened, we're actually going somewhere this time! Shibby!*******

* * *

Sanzo stood just behind Dokugakuji's chair, trying to make it look like he was paying attention to the business deal going on in front of him. Doku's usual bodyguard had dropped off the face of the Earth a couple of days earlier, and so Sanzo had been drafted in to take his place for the meeting.

The blonde might not have been as physically intimidating as the other bodyguards- Doku was actually taller and broader than him- but when all was said and done, he usually came out as the better standover man. Apparently, the expert shooting and constant glares made up for the lack of bulging, steroid-enhanced muscles.

Crossing his arms, Sanzo subtly glanced down at his watch. It was just past one-thirty, and he hadn't been concentrating enough to know if this was going to get wrapped up soon. He wasn't even entirely sure what was going on; he was just aware that Doku was working out some type of arrangement with a sister organisation from another state.

The meeting had begun at twelve, and Sanzo hadn't known that _he_ would be needed until Doku had rung at ten-thirty. He'd been assured that it wouldn't take longer than an hour; and yet, here he was, still standing around trying not to look bored as the minutes ticked away towards two o'clock. It was…_annoying._

Because really, lunch with an idiot was better than listening to the pathetic 'threats' being made by the man from interstate. It was obvious that he was going to give in and agree with Doku's terms, but he insisted on acting as if he was about to leave and then somehow destroy Doku's organisation.

It was pissing Sanzo off to no end.

"So, can we expect your full cooperation on this matter?" Sanzo finally tried to focus on what Doku was saying, because the later stages of a deal were usually where things went to Hell. This time, though, it was looking as if Sanzo had nothing to worry about.

"Well…yes, I suppose that you can. I'll agree to your terms. Call me on this line," the man scribbled a number onto the back of a fake business card, "and we'll work out the finer details. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other urgent business that I must attend to."

Doku stood at the same time as the man, and as the pair leant across the table to shake hands, Sanzo checked his watch again. It was one-forty; he was going to have to get out of here soon to make it to the café that Gojyo had named in time.

He turned to watch the man from interstate leave the room with his bodyguard, a great hulking monster of a man who probably had all the intelligence of a rock. Behind him, he heard Doku sigh as the man dropped back into his chair.

"I thought that asshole was never gonna leave! I'm beginning to regret this deal already." Sanzo turned back, quickly checking his watch again despite the fact that it had been less than a minute since he had last looked. Doku paused in running his hand through his hair, fixing Sanzo with a calculating stare.

"Somewhere to be, kid?" The older man smirked up at Sanzo, a mischievous gleam in his dark eyes. Sanzo glared suspiciously, immediately falling into 'denial at all costs'.

"No, I just don't want to be stuck here any longer."

"C'mon, Sanzo. You can tell me; you've got a hot date, don't you." Doku stood up, finally putting him above the blonde. The height difference had never intimidated Sanzo in the least, and it didn't work now.

"_No_. If we're done here, I'm leaving." Sanzo graced Doku with a particularly withering glare before stalking towards the door. He could hear the other man laughing behind him.

"Alright, kid. Have fun with your girl and/or boyfriend!"

Just before turning out into the hallway, Sanzo flipped Doku off over his shoulder. The man laughed harder, and Sanzo sighed in disgust. He immediately headed for the elevators, drumming his fingers impatiently on his thigh while he waited for the lift to arrive.

By the time he made it to the front door, he only had fifteen minutes until he was expected. He was going to be hauling ass across town…

* * *

Gojyo sat out the front of the café, lighting up a cigarette. He was _trying_ not to be pissed off about the fact that it was ten past two and he was still alone, but it wasn't really working. He was positive that he'd been stood up.

When he felt his phone begin to vibrate in his pocket, he grumbled a little. It was probably Sanzo, calling to say that he wasn't coming.

When he looked at the screen, though, his heart skipped a beat.

It was Hazel.

Pulling a long drag on his cigarette, Gojyo sat his phone on the table in front of him. He knew that he was going to regret it eventually, but he allowed the call to ring out. When the vibrations stopped, he hit the power button and silenced any other calls that Hazel would probably make.

Sure, Sanzo may have tried to get through, but Gojyo knew that he would work it out eventually if the blonde wasn't coming. He didn't need Hazel calling while he was out with Sanzo,_ if_ the man decided to turn up; he didn't want to have to explain just how foolish he really was.

Tapping his fingers against the table, Gojyo leant his head back, trying to focus on the warm sun heating his face rather than his unhappiness at being stood up. He closed his eyes against the glare, lifting the cigarette to his mouth and inhaling.

When the light and warmth on his eyelids was suddenly cut off, he jerked his head forward again. He hadn't even heard anyone approaching…

Gojyo cracked his lids open, trying to get his eyes to see the details of the silhouette that had disturbed him. Slowly, the dark blob mutated into a human shape, and Gojyo's face broke into a wide grin.

"Thought you weren't gonna come. You're blocking my sun, though; like they say, you might be a pain but you're not made of glass."

"Tch." Sanzo stepped to the side, placing himself in the chair on the other side of the table. Glancing at the lit cigarette dangling between the redhead's fingers, he pulled one of his own out of his pocket.

"So, what happened? Waylaid by a mob of screaming, fainting women?" Gojyo laughed slightly, turning his chair so that he was facing the other man.

Sanzo sent the redhead a weird look, but he didn't answer until he had lit his Marlboro up and inhaled deeply. "What the fuck are you on about? I was in a business meeting."

Gojyo raised one crimson eyebrow, playing with the ends of his hair with his free hand. "You really don't strike me as a 'meetings' kinda guy. Though, you _do_ look good in a suit."

Predictably enough, Sanzo glared before turning his head away and drawing again on his Marlboro; Gojyo wasn't entirely sure what Sanzo had apparently taken offence to, though. Shrugging to himself, he waited to see if the blonde was going to reply.

"I was only there to warn the other guy not to try anything stupid. Took longer than it should've." Judging by Sanzo's tone, the topic was closed. Gojyo let it go, instead picking up the menu that was sitting on the table in front of him. For a few minutes there was no conversation, and the redhead alternated between glancing over the menu and looking at Sanzo.

He'd really meant what he'd said about Sanzo and suits; the guy looked gorgeous all dressed up. It didn't take long for him to lose interest in choosing food altogether, and he simply stared at Sanzo while he had the chance.

He was determined to make this last longer than the previous day's lunch, but there were some things that he just couldn't plan for. This time, though, he was completely sober; he was _also_ planning on watching what he was saying.

"Stop staring at me," Sanzo growled without lifting his head. Gojyo's eyebrows rose, and he snickered. He should've known that the blonde would be able to bust him before too long.

"Sorry. I just like looking at you." A fleeting moment of confusion passed over Sanzo's face, soon dissolving back into the blank mask that the blonde wore whenever he wasn't furiously angry. Gojyo was intrigued by that passing expression, even if he wasn't entirely positive that he had truly seen it. Putting the information into his brain for later use, he turned to face the café window and beckoned to a waitress standing inside.

The woman was outside in seconds, and Gojyo could have sworn that several buttons on her top had magically come undone during her walk out the door. Not that he was complaining as she angled her torso, her top falling down to reveal even more of her not-too-small breasts.

"What can I get you two?" The tone was clearly flirtatious, and Gojyo smiled a little. Usually he would have played along, but he just didn't feel like it today. He got the sense that the woman was just trying too hard.

Sanzo barely even acknowledged the woman, not bothering to glance in her direction as he reeled off his order. She pouted, obviously not used to getting so little male attention. Gojyo found himself wondering if this was just Sanzo as he acted to everyone, or if he truly had no interest whatsoever in females.

"And for you, honey?" The woman turned, and Gojyo couldn't help but feel a little bit sorry for her with the way she seemed so starved for attention. She really had picked the wrong two men to hit on.

With a polite smile, Gojyo gave his order and pointedly turned back to Sanzo after he had finished. The waitress let out a quiet 'hmph' noise, flicking her hair as she turned to walk back inside. As soon as she was out of hearing range, Gojyo began laughing.

"Oh, shit…our food is _so_ spat in. "

Sanzo looked up at the redhead, his brow crinkled with incomprehension. "What? Why?"

"You didn't notice? Fuck, man, she wanted to get into your pants _so bad_ and you ignored the Hell out of her. She's pissed." Gojyo inhaled one more time on his cigarette before stubbing it out, leaning back in his chair and resting his left ankle on the top of his right knee.

"Tch." Sanzo acted like he had no interest in what Gojyo had said, but the redhead wondered whether he actually _had_ put it completely out of his mind. Unless…he really _wasn't_ attracted to females at all…

"Hey Sanzo, I've been wondering…are you gay, or bisexual, or what?" Gojyo knew that there was a chance that he would irrevocably piss the man off with his sudden question, but his curiosity often got the best of him. He couldn't help it.

There was almost a minute of silence, Sanzo simply glaring at Gojyo with annoyance written all over his face. The redhead placed his elbows on the table, leaning forward and resting his chin in his hands, innocence plastered across his expression. He wasn't intimidated at all by Sanzo.

Eventually, Sanzo rolled his eyes and turned to face the road in front of the café. He tapped his index finger on the table, finally breaking the quiet.

"I've never been interested in women. Now leave the topic _alone_." The blonde sounded reluctant, and Gojyo smiled. He'd got what he wanted; he didn't need any more details.

"Oh, alright. Anyway, do you have to go back to work today?" Gojyo knew that he had nothing lined up for the rest of the day; he really didn't feel up to working, so he'd called his clients and told them that he had food poisoning. After the weekend he'd had, he thought that it was fair to take a short holiday.

As it was, he still felt uneasy about what had happened the previous day. He was finding, though, that being with Sanzo helped him to forget all that; his happiness wasn't fake today.

"I have no idea. He'll call if he needs me." Gojyo assumed that 'he' was the man he'd talked to on the phone last week. Hopefully, Sanzo's boss man wouldn't call; the redhead wanted to draw this out for as long as he possibly could.

"So…that means you've got time on your hands?" Leaning back again, Gojyo turned into the sun, enjoying the heat on his face. He should've brought sunglasses…

"We'll see." Gojyo jerked his eyes back to Sanzo, a smile spreading across his lips. _That _was definitely a good sign.

* * *

Pushing his plate away, Sanzo lit yet another cigarette, the nicotine sending a burst of pleasure through his body. He watched in disgusted fascination as Gojyo took a massive bite of his own food, wondering how in Hell the man didn't choke. The redhead flicked his gaze up and caught Sanzo's look; swallowing, he smirked across the table.

"I can fit a _lot_ in my mouth." Winking dramatically, Gojyo threw his head back and laughed, his hair sweeping across the tops of his bare arms. Sanzo's mouth twitched, and he shoved his cigarette between his lips so that they would have something better to do.

"You're an idiot," the blonde snorted.

"So you keep telling me. Sometimes, I have to agree." Sanzo thought that the conversation may have been heading into bad territory, and he refused to say any more. Gojyo took the hint, going back to his food without continuing the conversation.

Sanzo was actually impressed with how well the redhead had bounced back from yesterday. He was usually good at telling when people were faking their emotions, and it didn't seem like Gojyo was trying to hide deep depression.

It was possible that his suicidal episode had been a one-off occurrence…but he still wanted to keep an eye out, just in case.

He didn't need more blood on his hands.

Sanzo suddenly realised that Gojyo had said something. Looking up, he saw that the man was leaning across the table again, a bright smile lighting up his face. He found himself thinking about how damned _beautiful_ the redhead was; Hell, he'd thought that from the very first moment he'd seen Gojyo twisting his way through the club.

"What?" He wondered just what the man had said to put that look on his face. He wasn't sure if he really wanted to know…

"Sheesh, don't you ever listen? What I sai-…oh, _fuck…_" The smile turned quickly into an expression of horror, and then into a blank look of pure neutrality. Sanzo started to turn so that he could see what had caused such a dramatic change in Gojyo, but he froze when a voice that he easily recognised rang out from just behind him.

"Why, fancy seein' you here, Gojyo. I do believe that you've been ignorin' my calls. Don't you _like_ me anymore?"

Sanzo immediately tried to come up with an escape route, preferably one that would get him far away from his current position as quickly as possible. He only vaguely registered the familiarity with which the man addressed Gojyo, instead focusing on how to stay unnoticed.

He'd actually been having a bearable afternoon; the _last_ thing he needed was Hazel Grosse and his usual behaviour.

"As you can see, _Hazel_," Gojyo spat out the name like it was the most horrible thing in the world, "I'm busy. You've made your point; now fuck off back to whichever little hole you crawled out of this time."

Sanzo could practically feel Hazel's eyes travelling from Gojyo over to him as the redhead spoke, and he worked hard to keep the disgust off his face. That sort of thing only seemed to encourage the man further.

"Oh, well _excuse me_, Sir Gojyo. I'll just be…_Sanzo?_" Hazel's tone switched instantly from sarcastic to gleeful, and Sanzo cringed ever so slightly. This was going to end badly for one of them…

"Well, I'll be! If it isn't my favourite gorgeous blonde…apart from myself, keep in mind." Hazel's hand drifted down to stroke Sanzo's shoulder, only to be violently brushed away.

"Don't touch me." Sanzo was willing to calmly ignore the loanshark- just as he'd _apparently_ done to the waitress earlier- for as long as it took, if the man kept his hands to himself.

Sadly, Hazel wasn't known for his respect of personal space.

"Sanzo, why are you spendin' time with _him_? You deserve so much better…listen, bring that cute li'l butt of yours to my estate sometime soon, and I'll show you just how much more _pleasurable_ life can be." Sanzo couldn't hold back the shudder that ran across his shoulders, and the ill feeling only increased when Hazel lightly caressed the back of his neck.

Grabbing Hazel's wrist, his short nails digging into the soft flesh, Sanzo finally looked at the standing man, his most dangerous glare on his face. "I said, don't _fucking_ touch me, Grosse."

He released the man, unwilling to keep hold of him for longer than he absolutely had to. Besides, insulting him, hurting him, threatening him and screaming at him all seemed to have the same effect; they just made Hazel more determined to crack onto Sanzo every time they saw each other.

"But Sanzo, darlin', your skin is so lovely…you _know_ that I just can't resist you. Those wonderfully angry purple eyes…and those snarlin' lips…"

The very tip of Hazel's index finger brushed over Sanzo's aforementioned mouth before all five of his fingers were roughly bent backwards. Hazel's face contorted in pain, an expression which sent sadistic glee through Sanzo. He'd been trying to stay relatively peaceful, but the loanshark had gone a _little_ too far this time.

"When someone says not to touch them, it usually means that _you_ _shouldn't touch them. _Get the fuck out of my sight, you miserable little piece of shit. Come near me again and I'll take great pleasure in putting a bullet straight into your spinal cord. I can assure you, it _will_ be a non-lethal shot."

Gradually increasing the pressure on Hazel's painfully bent fingers as he spoke, his other hand drifting to the inside pocket of his jacket where his revolver generally lived, Sanzo only let up when he felt a bone snap. One was enough, for the time being; there were too many possible witnesses for anything more.

Turning back to face Gojyo, Sanzo abruptly stood as Hazel gasped in pain. "Let's go."

Pushing past the man who was cradling his broken finger with his uninjured hand, Sanzo paused to allow Gojyo time to throw some money on the table, and then stalked off into the street. He heard a car pull up to the kerb, and he could only assume that it was Hazel's overgrown guard dog, coming to pick him up and probably do something about that nasty break.

Sanzo smirked at the thought; Hazel would probably avoid him for a good few months, now. He wasn't stupid enough to believe that he'd never see the man again, but months was better than weeks or days.

Leaving Hazel far behind, having walked fairly quickly through the moderately populated streets, Sanzo eventually stopped and turned back to where Gojyo was closely following him.

Swallowing, he cleared his throat. "I'll drop you wherever you need to go. I…liked today, at least until that fuckwit Grosse appeared."

"Thanks, I'd appreciate that. I liked this, too." Sanzo couldn't help but notice how Gojyo's smile didn't quite erase the worry that was now darkening the colour of his eyes.


	18. Chapter 18: You Lie

*******…*shakes head*…I blame this chapter on…actually, Morgan, if you're reading, this is your fault for making me think about that original fiction piece. Now my imagination is in overdrive with scenes like this chapter. Sheesh! Some people…

Anyway, have a good New Year, everyone. I didn't think that I'd get this chapter out before 2011, but with luck and the magic of time zones, here's my last piece for 2010! I think it's a good note to see out the year on.*******

* * *

"…Sanzo?"

Leaning back into the seat of the blonde's car, Gojyo linked his hands behind his head and turned his neck a little to the side. Sanzo's eyes didn't even flicker in his direction, remaining firmly on the road.

"What?"

"…How do you know Hazel?" Gojyo was still a little thrown out from the loanshark's unexpected appearance; the last thing that he had thought the man would do was approach him in the street. And then there was the way that Hazel had acted towards Sanzo, all hands and forward proposals…

"Before he went freelance, he did some work for Dokugakuji…my boss. He still appears every so often." Sanzo's voice rumbled with barely-contained anger, but Gojyo assumed that it had more to do with Hazel's behaviour than the question itself. "And, before you ask, he _is_ like that every time we meet. Fucking asshole…"

Gojyo shut his mouth, his next question answered. He couldn't help the grin that spread over his lips, though; Hazel had clearly been trying to get into Sanzo's pants for a _very_ long time now.

_He'd_ been there twice in a fortnight.

The sensation of having something over that insufferable bastard made the redhead happier than he thought possible, his hatred for Hazel fuelling the self-satisfaction. Like a dog that bites its cruel owner, Gojyo felt that it was an obscure form of revenge.

He'd had something that Hazel seemed to desperately want.

Now, Gojyo shifted slightly in his seat, his tight jeans seeming a little more constrictive than they previously had been. All this thinking about being screwed by the gorgeous man sitting next to him- his body couldn't resist the urge for an action replay.

But the blonde still seemed to be vibrating with anger. One wrong move, and Gojyo knew that he'd immediately be on his ass in the street.

Trying to distract himself from his growing need, Gojyo forced his eyes away from Sanzo and instead stared out the windscreen.

He had to say, he really wasn't surprised that Sanzo hadn't asked how _he _knew Hazel. If he'd read the man correctly- which, in all truth, he probably hadn't- then Sanzo was probably burning with curiosity, but asking would prove that he had an interest. The _last _thing that Sanzo seemed to want was to show that he actually had human qualities.

He was just so damned stubborn…and that explained why Gojyo usually had to be forceful…like the day he'd had Sanzo pinned to the floor, helplessly hard beneath him…

The smallest gasp left Gojyo's lips and he shifted again, this time trying to subtly adjust himself without drawing Sanzo's attention- and his wrath.

The blonde gave no sign that he'd seen anything, and one of Gojyo's eyebrows rose. Sanzo seemed to usually pick up on more than the average person. Even while driving, he should've noticed such an obvious motion, despite the redhead's best attempts to be subtle.

Unless…Sanzo was reacting to Gojyo's really quite obvious arousal with something _other_ than anger…?

"Oh, Sa~anzo…" Gojyo sing-songed flirtatiously, swallowing down any reticence he had in relation to the blonde's probable anger and lightly brushing his index finger across Sanzo's right knee.

"_What_?" Sanzo questioned again, brushing Gojyo's hand away without any of the brutality he'd earlier shown Hazel.

Unperturbed, the redhead returned his hand to Sanzo's leg, this time sliding two fingers down towards the inside of the driver's thigh. "You said that you had nothing to do for the rest of the day, right?"

His tone was low, seductive, and he gave a rumbling laugh when Sanzo brushed his hand away for a second time. The blonde still hadn't even looked in his direction, but it was definitely a good sign that Gojyo's fingers were still intact. Hazel hadn't gotten any further than Sanzo's arm, neck and lips, after all…

"I never said that." Sanzo's voice sounded relatively normal, lacking the violent tone that Gojyo had been expecting. He was encouraged, both in his mind and his dick.

"Well, do you?" Hoping for third time lucky, Gojyo slipped his entire palm from Sanzo's knee to halfway up his thigh. Although the blonde brushed him away almost immediately, he wasn't quite so quick to answer.

Just when he'd _almost_ resigned himself to a solo wank session at home, Gojyo caught the slightest shake of Sanzo's head. He figured that he wasn't getting a vocal answer, so he ran with what he had.

"_Sanzo_," he tried his best to add as much sensuality into the man's name as he could, "Don't leave me all alone in that big, empty apartment…"

This time, his moved his hand straight to the blonde's groin, his fingers dancing over the half-hard cock he found there. This time, it took Sanzo a fraction of a second too long before he knocked Gojyo's hand away, and a leer broke out over the redhead's features. This was going so we-…

"_No._" Sanzo's voice rang out with authoritative finality, and Gojyo's eyes widened, his leer disappearing. '_What the __**fuck**__ just happened?'_

The blonde finally glanced over in Gojyo's direction, and it seemed that he caught the shock in his passenger's eyes.

"Not while I'm driving, Gojyo." The tone of authority was still there, but Gojyo's spirits lifted.

"Is that a…yes to _later_, though?" He didn't touch the blonde this time, unwilling to push too far after finally having made some progress. There were still _other_ ways that he could work Sanzo up, however…

"…Maybe," the blonde growled, although there was a slight inflection that seemed to indicate that his actual meaning was, 'yes'. Unless Gojyo's desire was making him imagine that bit, of course…

"Good." Practically purring the word out, Gojyo settled himself partially against the seat back and partially against the door, allowing him to get a better view of the blonde. As usual, Sanzo had gone straight back to ignoring him.

Leering again, Gojyo spread his legs as far as he was able. He might not have been allowed to touch Sanzo yet, but that didn't mean he had to be _good_…

Stifling his quiet groan, Gojyo ran his palm over his own crotch, cupping his almost-fully-hard erection. He caught the slightest turn of Sanzo's head, and subconsciously tightened his grip a little.

Gojyo knew that he now had more of Sanzo's attention than the road did. Luckily, traffic wasn't all that bad, and he trusted the blonde to keep them both from dying in a fiery accident.

Starting to stroke over his covered bulge, Gojyo's eyelids fluttered and his lips parted. Memories of what he'd already done to Sanzo twirled together with fantasies of things he'd yet to do, and he let out a breathy moan.

Sanzo's hand twitched on the steering wheel, and Gojyo felt the car begin to roar as it sped up. Clearly, he'd taken a good chance here…

"_Sanzo…_I want you to fuck me…I'm so _hard_." There was a playful tone beneath the sensuality in Gojyo's voice, and he smiled hedonistically. This was just so much _fun._

Rubbing himself faster, Gojyo ran his free hand across his chest, skimming over his hidden nipples. The small buds were stiff, almost visible through the material of his singlet, and the contact of his hand sent a small shiver through his spine.

It was exciting, practically masturbating in a car while the best-looking man he'd ever met tried- and failed- to _not_ watch, with people in other vehicles possibly able to see his every movement…

When the car nearly fish-tailed around a corner, Gojyo would've fallen out of his seat if not for the belt still strapped across him. His hands instinctively shot out to protect himself, and the redhead moaned sadly at the loss of friction for his erection. Sanzo gave a small grunt of something that may or may not have been an apology, and soon enough the car came screeching to a halt in the parking lot of Gojyo's building.

Gojyo gasped as the back of his head was suddenly ripped forward, Sanzo expertly catching his lips in a needy, passionate kiss. The redhead's mouth stayed open to allow Sanzo's tongue in, and the dominating man immediately took up the invitation, sliding the muscle in to thoroughly ravage Gojyo's mouth.

Eventually pulling back, Sanzo nipped at the redhead's bottom lip as he drew away. The next second, his open palm hit the back of Gojyo's head, making the younger man gasp- though it was mostly from surprise than any form of pain. "What the _Hell?"_

"Fucking tease," Sanzo snapped in reply, getting out of the car and heading straight for the elevator. Gojyo watched for a few seconds, dumbfounded, before he finally shook himself aware. Jumping out of the vehicle, he took off at a jog to catch up with the quickly-disappearing blonde.

* * *

Even though he was walking nearly shoulder-to-shoulder with Gojyo, Sanzo forced himself to keep his hands off the other man until they were inside the apartment. The minute the redhead opened the door, though, all bets were off.

Roughly shoving Gojyo inside, Sanzo followed and slammed the door behind him.

He _knew_ that he was still supposed to be angry over Hazel's behaviour; he _knew_ that he was supposed to be finding out why Hazel had been there in the first place; and he _knew_ that he was supposed to be pissed about Gojyo touching him while he was trying to drive. But when the man had spread himself out, stroking his erection through his jeans, it had shot Sanzo's control to shit.

The urge to satisfy his dick was overruling any form of rational thought, and he no longer gave a fuck about keeping up any sort of façade or mask.

Pulling off his suit jacket, Sanzo threw it on the floor, his tie soon joining it. Gojyo had already taken off towards the bedroom, losing his singlet along the way; Sanzo was quick to follow.

When the belt was separated from Gojyo's jeans in a single sweeping motion, Sanzo vaguely remembered the belt he had 'mysteriously' found in his apartment. He forgot it again when the redhead reached his bed, turning to reveal his open pants and underwear-free state.

Sanzo was beginning to suspect that Gojyo didn't even _own_ underwear.

The blonde only realised that he'd stopped moving when Gojyo walked towards him, his hips moving sensually in his undone, body-hugging jeans. When the taller man's hands fisted in his button-down shirt, he barely had time to protest before the weak garment was ripped straight from his body, the fabric tearing loudly.

Gojyo's hands began to trace down his neck, where they suddenly halted completely. Looking directly at the redhead, Sanzo saw the beginnings of confusion growing there.

"Where the _fuck_ did you pick up a hickey from?" Gojyo's voice sounded vaguely annoyed, and his fingers traced the slightly faded mark on the lower part of Sanzo's neck.

Snorting in quiet amusement, the blonde tapped two of his fingers against Gojyo's forehead. "That was _you_, you drunk little dipshit."

When he pulled back, Sanzo could see Gojyo blinking curiously. He seemed to be trying to remember sucking the mark up, but it appeared that he failed. "Shit, man, I always forget the _good_ stuff…looks like I'll have to redo it."

Gojyo leant in again, his lips closing over the blemish and sucking hard. Sanzo could tell that the new mark was going to be bigger and uglier, but he couldn't really care less with Gojyo pressing up against him.

Long fingers with blunt nails scratched right down his back, and Sanzo's skin came out in goosebumps. Gojyo seemed to know _exactly_ how to make his knees weak…

The throbbing in his groin increased as Gojyo dropped to his knees, fingers making quick work of the last remnants of Sanzo's outfit before gripping the blonde's waist. Biting his lip, Sanzo nearly came when Gojyo's warm, wet mouth slid around his erection, the first relief for his aching cock almost proving too much.

Looking down, Sanzo caught Gojyo's upwards-directed stare, seeing the man's hand stroking over his own erection further down. The redhead pulled back, darting his tongue through the leaking slit of Sanzo's cock; a pale hand slid through and gripped Gojyo's hair, but Sanzo somehow managed to resist putting any pressure against the kneeling man's head. He didn't particularly need to, though, as Gojyo quickly slid Sanzo inside his mouth again, swallowing the man down until his nose pressed into musky-smelling blonde hair.

Sanzo could feel Gojyo's throat muscles working, and he couldn't hold back his slight groan this time. The noise seemed to encourage Gojyo, as the man's suction increased, making Sanzo groan louder. He had _such _a talented mouth…

Gojyo suddenly pulled off and Sanzo gasped, the air seeming cool against his saliva-slicked cock. The hand not still buried in Gojyo's hair promptly moved to fist around his cock and start slowly stroking, his body anxious to keep up some of the pleasure that the redhead had been causing.

"_Shit_, Sanzo…hearing you moan like that, and seeing you touch yourself…_fuck me_. Just…fuck me, _now_…" Gojyo's voice was breathy, catching a few times on certain syllables. He sounded damn near _desperate_, and it was driving Sanzo wild.

Pulling Gojyo up by his shoulders, Sanzo pressed their lips together once more, tasting a little of himself in the redhead's mouth when he slipped his tongue between Gojyo's lips and teeth. Drawing away, he pushed the other man back with _relatively_ gentle force, prompting the redhead to slide out of his jeans and then lie back on the soft bed.

The sight of Gojyo, his naked body stretched out on the mattress, erect and waiting…with the slightest growl of anticipation, Sanzo was on top of the redhead and grinding down in three seconds flat.

Here he was, yet again…and he was _loving_ it.

* * *

Sated, naked and exhausted, Gojyo lay diagonally across his bed with his head resting on top of Sanzo's bare stomach. His wet hair- Sanzo had insisted on immediate, _separate_ showers- was leaking trails of moisture onto the suit pants that Sanzo had put back on, but surprisingly, the man didn't seem to particularly care.

Gojyo reached up, nicking the cigarette that rested between Sanzo's lips and taking a drag. He sighed at the nicotine rush, savouring the taste of the blonde's more expensive brand.

Predictably enough, the stick was taken back straight away, Sanzo rapping Gojyo against the forehead with his knuckles. "Smoke your own, you freeloading son of a bitch."

"Cheap bastard," Gojyo scowled playfully, considering and then rejecting the idea to sit up and retrieve his own pack. He supposed that he could live with soaking up the second-hand smoke being constantly exhaled by the blonde; it sounded better than moving.

"Why was Hazel there?" The question was sudden, so out of the blue that Gojyo turned his head to look up at Sanzo, making sure that he _had_ actually heard right. He blinked a few times, trying to create a plausible answer.

"He's…an old client of mine. I decided that I wanted nothing to do with him, and he didn't like that." Gojyo prayed that Sanzo was tired enough to accept his slightly dodgy response; he didn't want the blonde to know about the mistakes he'd made. The man regularly called him an idiot, but trying to rip off a merciless loanshark certainly went beyond simple idiocy.

Sanzo seemed to be considering Gojyo's answer, and eventually he nodded. "Good choice. He's a complete fucking bastard; people who get involved with him usually end up run into the ground."

Swallowing hard, Gojyo strengthened his resolve to keep knowledge of his debt away from Sanzo. He didn't particularly like the idea that he'd lied, but…sometimes, ignorance really _was_ bliss.

Sanzo just didn't need to know.

* * *

*******What can I say? They're male: They screw first and ask questions later (if at all). I had to stop myself before I shattered my rating, haha! Happy New Year.*******


	19. Chapter 19: I Deny

Gojyo paced up and down his hallway, arguing as quietly as he could into his cell phone. He was _supremely_ pissed: not only had the call from Zakuro woken him up, but he'd been forced to unwrap himself from a sleeping Sanzo to answer it.

And now the pimp was trying to make him go back to work.

"I fucking _told_ you that I'm taking some time off."

"When was the last time you took- and actually _finished-_ a job? Thursday? Earlier than that? It sounds like you've already taken a fuckin' holiday, Kappa." Zakuro was furious, but Gojyo really didn't particularly care. He'd worked non-stop since he was eighteen; he deserved some vacation time.

"Yeah? Well-…"

"Listen to me, whore. Your track record is going downhill: my guys tell me that one of your clients complained that you couldn't get it up, another was beaten half to death just near where you two were supposed to meet, and now you're skiving off. Yeah, I know about that: you told your appointments that you were sick, but you were seen out with some _other _man."

Gojyo abruptly stopped pacing, mouth half-open in shock. The pimp knew _everything_…well, maybe everything except what had happened to Hazel. He still hadn't mentioned _that._

"I…"

"Believe me when I say this: you might be a very _valuable_ asset, but you're still ultimately disposable. I _own_ you, and if I need to get you hooked on drugs to make you do what I want, then I will. It wouldn't be the first time."

With a glance to the bedroom door behind him, Gojyo walked through to the kitchen of his apartment. Returning to a normal speaking voice, he tried once more to actually finish a sentence.

"Give me a few more days. I'll be at the club on Friday…_please_?" Gojyo wasn't about to believe that Zakuro was bluffing. The man may have had some severe delusions of grandeur, but he wasn't _all_ talk. Addicted to drugs, well and truly helpless against the will of whoever payed the most…Gojyo would rather have been dead.

"Not good enough. You've got a customer today…in an hour, actually. I suggest that you be there." Gojyo listened blankly as Zakuro reeled off the name of a hotel. He made no reply when a room number was repeated several times.

"Got that, bitch? Oh, and if you don't turn up, I'm going to assume that it has something to do with the girly-looking little blonde man whose picture I have sitting here. It won't take me long to find _him_ if you try cutting off."

Listening to the call-end tone, Gojyo sank against the kitchen counter. He was fucked; if he didn't go, he'd be turned into just another drugged-up whore. If he tried to run, Sanzo would be screwed for something that wasn't even his fault. Sure, Gojyo figured that the blonde could handle himself perfectly well; but not even he could fight back against three, maybe four or more of Zakuro's men.

It would just be better for everyone if he dealt with whatever sudden issues he had with his job, and went to work. Sex with whoever was lined up for today was nothing unusual; he'd done this hundreds, even _thousands_ of times.

A couple of unpaid fucks with someone who treated him like a human being didn't erase the fact that he was a prostitute: he was paid to screw around with anonymous men and women. That was all he was good for, and there was no point in fighting it.

Sanzo was just a bit of fun, an affair that surely wouldn't last. He couldn't allow a flash in the pan attraction to fuck his life up.

Suddenly, the sound of someone clearing their throat came from behind Gojyo. Whipping his had around, he saw Sanzo leaning against the doorframe, dressed only in the suit pants that he'd worn yesterday. One of his eyebrows was arched in a silent question: what was _that_ about?

Giving a nervous laugh, Gojyo tried to think of the best possible phrasing. Lying again wasn't an option; he didn't need to complicate this any more than he already had.

"Morning, Sanzo. That was my...boss. I've gotta work today. You can-…"

"Hn." Gojyo was cut off by Sanzo's monosyllabic grunt, and the blonde promptly turned and walked out of the room. Gojyo couldn't be certain, but he thought that he'd seen anger in the man's face…what was Sanzo expecting? He surely hadn't forgotten that he was fucking a whore.

Soon enough, Sanzo reappeared in the kitchen. He was fully dressed, looking exactly as he had the previous day. The ugly purple bruise on his neck was easily covered by his suit jacket, and there were no other signs of the passionate man that Gojyo had experienced all through yesterday afternoon and evening.

Without a word, Sanzo stalked past Gojyo and out of the kitchen, clearly intending to leave. Dashing after him, Gojyo caught the blonde in the front room only a few metres from the apartment's entrance. Spinning him by the shoulder, Gojyo tried to decipher the expression on Sanzo's face; he couldn't see anything past the anger.

"What do you _want_ from me, Sanzo? You know what I do! You kill people, and I fuck 'em! Why are you acting like this, all of a sudden? What do you want?" His tone was bordering on hysterical, but Gojyo just didn't understand. It was obvious that Sanzo had some problem with him having to work, but for the life of him he just couldn't work out why. It wasn't like they were anything more than friends with 'benefits', if that.

His arm roughly pushed away, Gojyo simply stood facing Sanzo, staring down into the man's violet eyes. The blonde's lip curled into a snarl, and he turned back to the front door.

Ripping it open, Sanzo looked back over his shoulder as he took the last few steps out of the apartment. Voice hissing angrily, he spat his final words before slamming the door and leaving Gojyo behind.

"I don't want _anything_. There's nothing that I could want from you."

* * *

He was a fuckwit. A complete and utter, inexcusable, incorrigible _fuckwit_. He _knew_ what Gojyo did for a living, and yet he'd freaked out when the redhead had shoved it in his face- unintentionally.

Besides, it wasn't even like he had any sort of _claim_ to Gojyo; the little slut had probably slept with half the city, if not more.

Not to mention that fact that he had no desire for a claim to the man, anyway. Sanzo had never been in any sort of a relationship, and that was the way he liked it. There was more to it than the fact that taking a proper lover would announce to the world that he was gay; there was also the fact that he refused to let anyone that close.

Close was dangerous, and no one had gotten close to Sanzo after- and even before- his adoptive father's death.

Besides, even taking all of that out of the account, there was still one glaring issue. Gojyo was a whore, and as long as he continued to fuck everyone who waved about some cash, Sanzo couldn't accept it. Now, if the man went clean…

Sanzo stopped that train of thought immediately. He had better things to think about than pointless 'what ifs' and 'maybe thens'. He didn't _want_ a relationship, whether it was with a prostitute or not.

There was one thing, though, that he couldn't get out of his mind. From the time that he'd met Gojyo for lunch to the moment when Gojyo had explained the phone call, the redhead hadn't been just another whore.

He'd been nothing else but a good-looking, irritating asshole of a man, whose very presence seemed to bleed the tension from Sanzo's body. Not to mention a fantastic screw…

Shaking his head, Sanzo butted out his cigarette and finished his coffee. Gojyo was a decent guy, and he'd done nothing wrong. He didn't deserve the way that he'd been treated earlier that morning.

Sanzo let out the smallest laugh as he walked towards his bedroom. He knew perfectly well how this would go. In a few hours, he'd ring Gojyo up and insult him a couple of times, then make a half-assed apology, throw in some more insults, and then they might decide to go drinking later in the week.

As long as Gojyo didn't try anything stupid today…but then again, he hadn't seemed quite as distraught as he had been on Sunday. The redhead would be fine to wallow in minor misery for a little while.

After work, then. He'd call the man when he got home…if he felt like it. Yeah.

* * *

"So, how'd your hot date go?"

Sanzo glared in the direction of the reception desk, where Dokugakuji was standing with his receptionist, Yaone. With a quick look at the girl, who was staring wide-eyed at him, the blonde bit out a reluctant response.

"I _told_ you there was no date, you dickhead." Yaone visibly lost interest at that point, going back to whatever she'd previously been doing. Sanzo was glad; he didn't need people getting the wrong idea simply because his boss was an idiot.

There truly had been no date; just a quick lunch between two…_friends_, Sanzo supposed.

"Suuuure. C'mon, kid." Nodding towards the elevator, Doku took off through the foyer. Sanzo eventually followed, wondering just how much of this shit he was going to have to put up with.

He wasn't surprised when Doku picked the topic up again the minute the lift doors shut.

"So, there was no date, hey?" There was an odd little smirk on the older man's face, and Sanzo frowned.

"That barely deserves an answer."

"Oh? Then why am I hearing about you and some unknown man yesterday, not too long after you bailed?"

Sanzo's hands clenched. Doku _knew_? How much information did he have? Could he know what Gojyo did?

He was desperately trying to keep a straight face, but by Doku's expression he could tell that he'd failed. Shit, he was fucked…his boss was going to make this difficult, and he'd probably never believe that Gojyo was just a friend. Still, he had to try…

"He's a friend. _Nothing more_."

"You have _friends_?" Doku's mock surprise made Sanzo want to punch him. It might have been unusual, but it surely wasn't _earth-shattering _that the blonde would have someone that he didn't entirely hate…was it?

"Apparently, yes." Sanzo tried to end the topic there, but Doku wasn't about to let it go.

"C'mon, Sanzo. Who's this guy? Is he _really _just a friend? You can tell me. Shit, next time I'll make sure someone gets pictures. Don't make me shoot you for answers, kid." The threat was in no way serious, and Sanzo was fully aware of that fact. He had no intention of answering the questions.

"It doesn't matter, and yes. _Leave it alone_." Stepping out into the hallway, Sanzo followed Doku towards his office.

Today was shaping up to be positively _wonderful_. The cherry on top would be Doku bringing up something about-…

"Oh, one more thing! I hear you had a little run-in yesterday."

…Hazel. _Shit_.

"Sanzo, what did you do to Grosse?" Doku's voice was curiously neutral. He didn't seem particularly furious about the fact that Sanzo had injured the loanshark…then again, Doku had only really put up with Hazel because he was so good at what he did…

"I broke at least one of his fingers." Sanzo decided that honesty was the easiest option. Walking into Doku's office, he slumped down in a chair and glared a little. He had to disguise his little smile, after all. The feel of the bone giving way had been positively cathartic.

There were a few moments of silence, before Doku started laughing madly. Eventually he wiped his eyes, straightening up and clearing his throat. "Oh, _shit_, Sanzo…really? Oh, who am I kidding, you don't lie. Let me guess, he was hitting on you again."

Scowling, Sanzo nodded. Then he remembered the injury once more, and his angry look dissolved. It had just been so _satisfying_…and Hell, he'd probably get a raise for this.

"Oh, _gods_…that's classic. Now, onto business…"

The obvious switch to work was mirrored in Doku's tone, and Sanzo sat up slightly straighter. The man wasn't going to bring Gojyo up again- he always made sure to stay professional when business was involved- and so Sanzo was happy to start listening.

He had a job to do, after all.

* * *

It was nine in the evening before Sanzo eventually made it home. Dokugakuji still didn't have a permanent bodyguard, and so the blonde had been forced to follow his boss around to all manner of ridiculous places. Apparently, because Sanzo didn't look like a proper guard, he had been the best choice of fill-in today, as well.

At least Doku hadn't mentioned the 'date' again.

Sanzo rolled his eyes. Thank the gods that his fairly brutal-looking hickey was easily covered. He was going to have to be more careful in the future; that was one thing that he wouldn't be able to explain away.

And on that note…it was probably time to swallow his pride and give Gojyo his own version of an apology. His honour wouldn't allow him to hurt the redhead _too_ much without provocation, and he'd probably suffered enough by now. Even though it hadn't been _entirely_ Sanzo's fault that he had snapped; Gojyo had really put him on the spot with those questions, ones that he really didn't want to think about.

Slowly taking out his cell, Sanzo called Gojyo's number with a little reluctance.

The call rang…and rang…and rang…until _eventually_, Sanzo was connected to a message bank. Sighing in disgust, he hung up. He didn't want to leave a message; it was too much proof of his apology, in his opinion.

Trying the number again, Sanzo was met with the same result. He left no message once more, instead just sitting the phone down.

Clearly, Gojyo was busy…or ignoring him.

Sanzo decided that he didn't want to know what the man was doing, if he truly _was_ 'previously engaged'. That was why he had to do this in the first place, after all. He'd try to call again later.

_One_ more time only. If Gojyo was actually ignoring him, then he wasn't going to try very hard to get through. Stuff the redheaded bastard!

* * *

Gojyo walked through the front of his building, limping ever so slightly. He was used to it, but _damn_, his second client for the day had been awfully rough. Add to that the fact that he'd already been fucked- badly- once today and that he'd spent the best part of the evening being fucked- _extremely_ well- by Sanzo, and he was ready to collapse.

Sanzo…now _there_ was something that he didn't particularly want to think about. The bipolar little prick was starting to get on his nerves; it was almost as if he'd been glossing over the fact that Gojyo slept with people for money. Then, when reality had come crashing back, he hadn't been able to handle it.

The redhead wasn't sure whether to be offended by that, or a little flattered that Sanzo could apparently see past his job.

Stepping out of the elevator and into his hallway, Gojyo ran a hand through his hair. Tomorrow, he'd break into the blonde's apartment again, beat him up a bit, and then try to find out why he'd so suddenly lost it earlier.

Smiling to himself, Gojyo unlocked and opened his front door. That sounded like a good plan.

And then the world tilted violently.

Pain suddenly shooting through his head, Gojyo tried to see through his darkening vision. He couldn't make much out, but when a face suddenly came into view, he wished that he'd lost consciousness the minute he hit the floor.

Hazel's smirking face floated somewhere above him, pure glee written on his blurry features. Gojyo vaguely realised that it must have been the man's perpetual watcher, Gat, who'd decked him; it _was_ strange that he was still awake, in that case. Gat could usually knock a guy straight out in one go…

The last thing that Gojyo remembered was Hazel stealing his cell phone from his pocket and throwing it in a corner, before the smaller man ordered his lackey to take away all of Gojyo's hidden weapons.

'_Fuck…'_

* * *

*******Yeah, Zakuro is completely different here than in canon. But seriously, he pops up like twice in the manga, and he's only in this story because I needed a character I hadn't already used. Give me a little leeway on that one, okay?*******


	20. Chapter 20: You Vanish

*******Chapter twenty…shit, I barely expected it to get past ten chapters, if that. Thanks for sticking with me!

Sorry that this took a while to write and proof, but I just wasn't in the mood for violence. My updates might be a little sporadic for the next couple of weeks, because it's my birthday soon and I'm flat out (like a lizard drinking?) in real life.

Stupid real life.*******

* * *

Gojyo groaned as his eyes slowly opened, pain dancing through his body. His head hurt, his arms and legs were cramping, and he was fairly certain that his just-healed ribs were no longer healed at all.

When his vision slowly adjusted to the darkness, he groaned even louder. He was sure that he'd been here before; then again, if you'd been held captive in one dingy basement, you'd been held captive in 'em all.

Needing to prove his suspicions, Gojyo experimentally tried to move his arms. Harsh rope rubbed into his wrists, firmly tied together behind his back and therefore useless- and his ankles were bound before him in much the same fashion. '_Well, __**shit**__.'_

Bondage had never really done anything for Gojyo, and he was pretty sure that people who enjoyed it had never been knocked out, tied up and thrown into a dark, damp basement. He was still somewhat uneasy about clients who wanted to use rope after the _first_ time that he'd been here; if he made it out of this alive, he'd probably be even more reticent about that kind of kink.

Not that he really got a say in what the customer wanted to do…

Blinking, Gojyo tried to focus on a more important issue: his current problem. From what little bits he could piece together in his somewhat fuzzy memory, this had something to do with Hazel…which made sense, considering the surroundings.

Yes…Hazel and Gat had been in his apartment when he'd arrived home…they must have somehow gotten him here without anyone noticing.

Not that anyone would have done anything if they _had_ noticed, in all truth.

Thinking hard, Gojyo attempted to figure out exactly why he was experiencing a repeat of two years ago. Was Zakuro involved in this? Gojyo had gone to work as told, hadn't done anything to screw up his position in the trade…was it possible that just Hazel was involved?

'_Shit…shit__**shit**__FUCK!'_

Gojyo realised, with a sinking feeling, what this may have been about.

Footsteps echoed from behind him, and Gojyo struggled to sit up. The urge to be sick had him squeezing his eyes shut, but he managed to shift into a position where he could see everything around him- when he actually opened his eyes again.

The sound of a door connecting with a wall reverberated through the bare room, the footsteps coming closer as Gojyo spun to face the disturbance. Fantastic…it was Hazel. Thankfully, though, he was alone.

"Ah, so you're finally awake, Sha." The recognisable drawl sent shivers down Gojyo's spine, the malicious intent in Hazel's tone dripping from every word. There was something else there, though; something that Gojyo hadn't heard in all the times that Hazel had called him, or the last time that he was here.

He just couldn't _quite_ put a name to it.

Gojyo had to look right up as Hazel walked closer, the normally shorter man now looming over him. With his face tilted as far back as it was, the redhead's only warning of the foot that slammed into his ribs was a cruel twist to Hazel's lips.

Grunting in pain, Gojyo barely managed to stay in his awkward sitting position, the ache feeling so much worse for the fact that his ribs were already fragile. Bracing himself for another blow, the redhead was surprised when it never came; instead, Hazel took a step back, crossing his arms over his chest and snarling down at the bound figure on the floor.

"I don't wanna kill you. You make me quite a lot of money, and I'm sure that Zakuro would be mighty pissed if I took out his main whore."

Gojyo glared up at Hazel, suspicion written all over his face. He didn't know where Hazel was going with this- he just knew that it was probably going to be painful.

"But if you shit me too far up the wall, they'll find you overdosed in an alley." A hard slap connected with Gojyo's face, sending it to the side. Sharp pain informed him that his lip was now split; Gojyo faced back to Hazel and snarled at the man, tasting blood in his mouth.

"Nothin' to say, Kappa?"

"Oh, I've got _plenty _to say. You're just not worth it." It took all of Gojyo's self-control not to spit on his captor, but he couldn't hold back the retort. He saw Hazel's foot coming this time, though he could do little more than flinch as the kick barely missed his temple.

"Those're some tough words. Y'know, I always say that any vengeance should be performed tenfold." Hazel let out a sadistic laugh, reaching down to show Gojyo his bandaged hand.

"So I'm gonna break all ten of your fingers…and anything _else_ that I feel like."

Gojyo's anger immediately increased exponentially. "Are you as stupid as you look? That was your own fucking fault! I had nothing to do with your precious hand."

This time, Hazel's foot came crashing down on Gojyo's knee; judging from the degree of agony, the redhead guessed that the kneecap had been fractured on impact. He bent over himself in pain, biting his lip to stop any sounds from escaping. He wasn't going to give Hazel that satisfaction.

"It was _your_ fault that I was there, and guess what? I like Sanzo a _Hell_ of a lot more than I like you."

Gojyo couldn't help it: he laughed. It was a bitter, mocking sound, and it sent bolts of pain all the way through his body, but he couldn't stop. It was just as he'd thought: Hazel was _jealous_, and it was making him act like a- rather violent and psychopathic- thirteen-year-old girl.

"What's so fucking _funny_?" Hazel snarled as he crouched down to Gojyo's side, making sure to be out of the way enough so that the redhead couldn't do any damage with his feet. Grabbing hold of the rope around Gojyo's wrists, he pried the man's curled index finger straight, before snapping it backwards with an audible crack.

Gojyo threw his head back, gasping as a single tear of pain threatened to escape. He forced it away by closing his eyes, keeping the sign of weakness trapped firmly inside. He _wouldn't_ let Hazel get to him.

"That smile disappeared awful quick. Not so arrogant _now_, are we?"

Figuring that he was already pretty much fucked, Gojyo smirked through the pain. He slowly opened his eyes and faced Hazel, staring directly at the man. "Sanzo's still not going to fuck you, no matter what you do to me."

With a noise that bordered on a yell, Hazel reared his fist back, driving it directly into the side of Gojyo's face. He caught the edge of Gojyo's nose, and blood immediately began to drip down the redhead's face as he fell onto his side.

Although he could no longer see the other man, Gojyo assumed from the noises behind him that Hazel had stood. He didn't have a chance to even _try_ to protect himself from the vicious kick to the back of his head, and consciousness promptly left him once more.

This just _wasn't_ his day.

* * *

Twenty-four hours after he first tried to call Gojyo, Sanzo was beginning to feel something that could _almost_ be called worry. The redhead still wasn't picking up his phone, despite Sanzo having tried four times to get through in the last two hours.

That bastard was ignoring him. He was going to have to go over to Gojyo's apartment and beat the snotty little punk into submission, wasn't he?

Sanzo refused to acknowledge what might have happened to Gojyo if he _wasn't_ just ignoring the blonde's calls. There was no way that he would have killed himself; maybe he lost his phone.

Suddenly feeling a little sick, Sanzo stood up from his lounge chair, grabbing his car keys and gun from a side table.

He was going over to Gojyo's apartment, and he was going to give the man a piece of his mind. _No one _ignored Sanzo. It just wasn't done.

* * *

Sanzo slammed his fist into Gojyo's front door, banging for almost thirty seconds straight. Scowling at the inanimate wood when no one opened up, he reached into his back pocket, glad that he'd thought to grab his lock pick kit from his car.

It took longer than he would have liked to jimmy the door open, his skills having atrophied from disuse. '_I swear, if that fucker is sitting on his ass watching TV, I'm going to show him what his brains look like.'_

Slamming the door open, Sanzo stalked into the apartment, growling Gojyo's name. There was no reply.

Moving swiftly from room to room, Sanzo quickly came up with two conclusions:

Nothing looked any different from when he'd stormed out on Tuesday.

There was no sign of Gojyo, or life at all.

A tension that he hadn't realised he was feeling left Sanzo's body. Gojyo might not have been in the apartment, but that meant that there was no dead body, either. That still didn't answer where the redhead was, though…

Taking his phone out once more, Sanzo stabbed at the redial button and impatiently waited for the call to connect. An unexpected buzzing noise drew his attention away from the ringing in his ear, and his head snapped to the left.

There on the floor, in the corner of Gojyo's front room, was the redhead's cell.

Eyebrows drawing together in confusion, Sanzo ended the call and walked over to the now-silent phone. Why didn't Gojyo have his phone on him? And why was it sitting in such a bizarre place?

The rational majority of Sanzo's brain told him that it had probably just fallen from Gojyo's pocket, and that the man had gone out of town or something. It didn't immediately mean that anything was wrong.

But for once, the sensationalist portion of Sanzo's mind overruled his clear thinking. Gojyo wouldn't go anywhere without his phone; Sanzo had never seen the thing more than a few feet away from the redhead, if that.

The man had clearly fallen afoul of a violent customer; he was lying injured in a filthy motel room. Or he was dying in an alley somewhere, alone and in agony.

Shaking his head as if to clear away his uncharacteristically ridiculous thoughts, Sanzo picked up Gojyo's abandoned cell. If anyone knew where the idiot had disappeared to- if he'd actually disappeared at all- it would be his pimp.

Sanzo thought back, trying to remember the new pimp's name. It was something that started with an odd letter…an 'x', or maybe a 'z'…yes, that was it, Z-something…

Finding the phone's contact list through the process of elimination, Sanzo flicked through the list, coming to rest on the name, 'Zakuro'. That sounded about right.

Clearing his throat, Sanzo directed the cell to dial the number. Only three rings passed before the call connected, and two voices simultaneously began to snap angrily.

"Where the _fuck_ is Gojyo?"

"Where the fuck have _you_ been?"

There was a moment of silence as the two men tried to decipher the other's words, before Sanzo took the initiative to snarl into the phone again. "I'm assuming that you're the filthy piece of shit pimp known as Zakuro?"

"Watch your mouth, asshole. Where's Gojyo fucked off to? I lost a shitload of money today thanks to that dickhead."

"That's what I want to know. He's not at his apartment and I've got his phone, so he must be at work. Tell me where the fuck he's been today, and I _won't_ track you down and use your skin as leather." Sanzo was quickly losing his patience. Talking to this prick was pointless if he didn't have the information that the blonde wanted.

"He's probably run off with that blonde fucker he's been seen with…when I find that guy, he's _screwed_, stealing away my best piece of ass…" The pimp seemed to be talking more to himself than anything else, but Sanzo's temper came awfully close to breaking point as the pieces clicked together.

"Are you referring to _me_? If you don't know where Gojyo is, then you're of no use to me. I'll slaughter you for that comment!" Hissing angrily, Sanzo felt his eye begin to twitch.

"Wait, wait, give me a second." Zakuro's voice was suddenly more level, his tone contemplative rather than furious. Sanzo debated hanging up right there and then, but he decided to wait just a few seconds more as the pimp began to talk again. "He's not working…and he's not with you…_oh, __**fuck!**__"_

"Wha-…" The connection died before Sanzo could find out what Zakuro seemed to have realised. The blonde threw the phone in frustration, and it promptly shattered against the wall, rendered completely useless. "Son of a _BITCH!" _

Sanzo knew that he wouldn't be able to break his anger until he got to take it out on Gojyo. He had no clue where to find the man, though…

Looking around the well-furnished apartment, he shrugged his shoulders. It was seeming like he would be staying here until either Gojyo walked through that door, or someone with any idea as to the redhead's location rang the landline phone.

And when Sanzo eventually found him, Gojyo was in for a _world_ of pain. This inconvenience was just too much to be forgotten anytime soon.


	21. Chapter 21: I Hunt

*******Jessiedark, I tried replying to your message but it wouldn't let me, and now I feel rude. Everyone who's been waiting, it's thanks to her that this chapter came out _before _I went to bed, rather than after I woke up.*******

* * *

It took almost twenty minutes of restlessly wandering through Gojyo's apartment before Sanzo found himself walking out the front door. He just couldn't do it; he couldn't sit still while Gojyo was out there…_somewhere_.

He was going to go and find Gojyo, kick his ass, and then drag him home by the hair. It would quite possibly be the most satisfying thing Sanzo had ever done, too.

It was only when he was unlocking his car that he realised one _slight_ issue: he had no clue as to where he should start looking.

His city-wide list of contacts from the organisation was basically useless, because he refused to let anyone know that he was looking for a prostitute- and a male one, at that. There were just too many invasive questions and idiotic rumours that could be born from that. He didn't even want to trust Hakkai, who never said shit about anything, with something like this.

Not to mention that Gojyo's pimp was from Kougaiji's side of the field, which added yet _another _level of complication. Digging too much around 'the enemy' was an unjustifiable risk.

Zakuro had clearly known something, but Sanzo couldn't really call him now that he'd fucked up Gojyo's phone. _That_ had been a serious error of judgement, but there wasn't much that he could do about it now. But how could he even _start_ looking for the redhead, with his only communication method gone?

His eyes widened as he realised where he could go: the club where Gojyo worked. If he was _really_ lucky, maybe someone could send him in Zakuro's direction, and if not, maybe Gojyo had told someone he worked with where he'd gone.

It was a long shot, but there wasn't much else that he could do.

Sliding into the car, Sanzo wasted no time before leaving the parking lot with a screech, cutting off a lane of traffic as he sped down the road.

It was getting late, after all…

* * *

Gojyo didn't know how long he'd been in Hazel's basement. He kept passing out, unable to force himself to stay awake as his captor shattered bones and dislocated joints.

He couldn't help but wonder if, despite what he'd said, Hazel _was_ actually going to kill him. By this point, Gojyo was sure that death would be merciful. His entire body seemed to be falling apart, and he knew that Hazel was nowhere near finished.

Shifting himself slightly onto his side in the most _relatively_ comfortable position he could find, Gojyo sighed so heavily that the noise almost resembled a sob. He just wanted this to be over…even if that meant dying.

He didn't regret anything in his life. He'd never had the chance to do anything of real worth, so he wasn't bemoaning bad choices that he might have made. He was done.

Well…except for one small thing.

Gojyo couldn't help but wish that he and Sanzo had parted on better terms.

Though, he considered with a small, pained smile, at least Hazel wasn't taking this out on Sanzo. Seeing the blonde's face swollen, bruised and bloody the way his own currently was…it would be an affront to all the aesthetics in the world.

Familiar footsteps echoed once again- though Gojyo couldn't remember if this was the fourth or fifth time- through the room, and he carefully schooled his face to show nothing but apathy. If he was going down, then he'd go like a man.

"Evenin', Gojyo. How's the shoulder?" Hazel laughed, his sadistic nature clearly showing through. The redhead managed to summon his best scowl, channelling Sanzo in his expression even as he made his voice casual and carefree.

"Still dislocated, y'know? But I've had worse." By this point, he no longer gave a flying fuck about trying to charm his way out of this. He would _never_ grovel to the piece of shit standing over him, for release _or_ for death.

"Next I might have to go for that fast talkin' jaw of yours. Might convince you not to be so goddamned _cocky_." The toe of Hazel's shoe dug right into Gojyo's spine, sending him onto his front. The redhead gasped brokenly as he fell directly onto his left hand- the one with four broken fingers. He struggled to shift his weight, but with his arms and legs still bound, plus more injuries than he could remember, it was nearly impossible.

A hand gripped in his hair, pulling Gojyo onto his back with excruciating force. The pressure on his trashed ribs was making it hard to breathe, and he was reduced to gasping for air.

Gojyo closed his eyes, unwilling to see the smug expression on Hazel's face as the man crouched down. The hand in Gojyo's hair moved, resurfacing with a loose grip around his left hand.

"_Good_…you're learnin'. See, I knew you weren't quite a dumb as you tend to act." The hand tightened cruelly, exerting so much pressure on Gojyo's broken fingers that he could no longer hold back.

He let out a short howl of agony, instinctively trying to pull away but only making things worse for himself. Clamping his teeth together, he barely managed to muffle the sound.

Hazel just laughed, using his free hand to pull Gojyo's face towards him by the hair. "You're so _weak_, and you ain't pretty anymore. Sanzo's not going to want you ever again."

With a surge of adrenaline, Gojyo spat as hard as he possible could, hitting Hazel on the cheek. His lips twitched with pride, but the expression melted when the back of his head was slammed into the hard floor, the darkness taking over yet again.

* * *

Sanzo breezed straight into L'Amour, the bouncer obviously assuming that the violent-looking man in the expensive business suit was one of Zakuro's 'important guests'. If the blonde remembered correctly, there were a couple of whores that worked the club on the weeknights it opened; hopefully he could find one quickly.

Squinting against the unhelpful lighting, Sanzo searched for a recognisable piece of gold jewellery. He took off through the moderate crowd, once again having to dodge reaching hands and the occasional dumbass that tried to latch on tight.

He was beginning to lose faith in this idea; he couldn't spot a single worker, and the patrons were _really_ getting on his nerves.

Suddenly, he caught sight of a thin arm with an emerald and gold bracelet hanging off it. Within an instant he had reached out and grasped the limb, pulling the other person closer- with slightly more force than he'd intended- before glancing his catch over.

He then had to take a second look.

There was _no _way that this provocatively-dressed _kid_ was a whore. Shit, he was starting to feel a little sick…

Sanzo noticed that the boy was looking at him a little nervously, and he realised that he still had the kid by the arm. Quickly letting go, he tried to keep the disgust off his face as he motioned towards the back of the club. They couldn't talk out here; he was going to have to act like a buyer.

The boy smiled brightly and nodded before turning and weaving through the crowd. Checking to make sure that he didn't see anyone watching, Sanzo followed, trying to ignore the nausea that was threatening to resurface.

This kid didn't look more than thirteen, _maybe_ fourteen at a stretch. Even though he knew that he wasn't going to do anything more than ask a few questions, Sanzo couldn't help but shiver slightly in disgust. The boy was a little _too_ sure about this; how long had he been taking people behind the scenes?

When they passed through the back door of the main club area, Sanzo breathed a sigh of relief. The idea of someone seeing him with such a young-looking boy…

The kid started towards one of the private rooms- one directly across from where he had first fucked Gojyo, Sanzo couldn't help but notice- but the blonde stopped him before he could open the door.

"Listen, Kid-…"

"Goku," the kid replied happily. Sanzo couldn't help but wonder how much longer the smile would last in this line of work.

"…What?"

"My name's Goku. What's goin' on? There's a strict 'no screwing in the hallway' rule, sorry."

Sanzo only barely avoided throwing up in his mouth. He considered asking how old the kid…_Goku_ was, but it would have been a waste of breath: no matter what the truth was, he knew that he wouldn't get an answer of anything less than eighteen.

"I'm not interested in _that_."

"But why-…"

"Do you know a guy called Gojyo?" Sanzo jumped straight to the point, wanting to get away as quickly as possible so that he could stop feeling like such a filthy degenerate. Picking up an adult whore was fine; child prostitution, however, was something that he could _never_ accept.

He was feeling fairly similar to the moment when Gojyo had said how early he'd started selling himself.

"Gojyo doesn't work here today. Ya might wanna come back on Friday, okay?"

Sanzo couldn't keep the exasperation out of his tone. "You think I don't _know_ that? The fucker's gone and disappeared. Do you know where he might have cut off to?"

Goku looked momentarily shocked before his cheery smile returned. "Oh, then why don't ya just call him?

The urge to whack the kid over the top of the head had Sanzo clenching his fist; He managed to resist, though, and just glared down at the little brunette while hissing his words out. "He left his cell behind."

Even in the dark-ish corridor, Sanzo could see Goku's eyes widening. "He _what?_"

Sanzo didn't bother repeating himself.

The kid took a step back, leaning heavily against the wall. One foot tapped quickly against the plaster, setting a noisy rhythm that had Sanzo gritting his teeth.

"Sorry, but I dunno where he could be…Geez, I hope nothin' happened to him, he's a good guy."

Sanzo sighed in exasperation, running a hand through his hair. This was useless.

"Kid, do you know where Zakuro is? Is he here?" The tapping stopped, as too did the twitching vein in Sanzo's forehead.

"Ummm…I'm really not sure. He's not usually here tonight."

Sanzo opened his mouth to reply, but the sound of the main door opening had him glancing warily over his shoulder.

"Are you Sanzo?"

Turning fully around, Sanzo glared suspiciously at the new figure- who he vaguely recognised as the bouncer he'd earlier passed. One hand slowly moved towards his gun, just in case something went bad. "Who's asking?"

The bouncer crossed his arms over his chest, clearly trying to use his height and build to intimidate the smaller blonde. Sanzo simply raised an eyebrow, unperturbed by the show.

"Zakuro wants you to meet him at Gojyo's apartment." The heavy-set man then turned, leaving the back area of the club without another word. Sanzo immediately started after him, but he changed his mind and took a few long strides towards Goku.

"…Here, kid." Grabbing several hundred dollars from his wallet, he practically threw it at Goku before legging it from the corridor. If he'd guessed correctly, the boy wouldn't have to work for the night now.

Not that he particularly _cared_ or anything…

* * *

Gojyo was startled back into a vague state of awareness when the basement door slammed open, quick footsteps pounding across the bare floor. Hazel, who had apparently been standing over him, walked to meet the new arrival; Gojyo could barely move his neck to see who it was, and so he tried to focus on the voice.

"What the _fuck_ are you doing, you insane son of a bitch!"

Gojyo's first thought was that Sanzo had somehow found him, and that Hazel would now get the absolute shit beaten out of him.

But then his mind loudly announced that Sanzo's voice sounded nothing like the unknown man's. It was closer to…_Zakuro? _Why the fuck would he be here?

Gojyo found the world beginning to darken again, and he desperately fought against the call of unconsciousness. He needed to hear what was going on; this might be how he learned whether he would live or die.

"Why, if it isn't Zakuro. How are you, on this fine evenin' we're having?" Hazel finally sounded sane, and it seemed to Gojyo like he was an entirely different person. His aching body, though, disagreed.

"Cut the shit, Grosse. Why-…Oh, for _fuck's _sake!" A pair of footsteps rushed over, and Gojyo felt someone standing just to the side of him. He wanted to see who it was, but he just couldn't get his eyes to open.

"You fucking _asshole_! I can't make anything off him when he looks like this! Why did you…Look, I don't care. I'm getting him out of here before you kill him. He's no good to either of us dead."

There was a sound like the clicking of cell buttons, before the voice spoke again. "Get in here, _now_."

The second person walked over, and Gojyo heard Hazel speaking this time. He sounded fairly unhinged once again, and it made Gojyo shake ever so slightly. "He needs to _learn_, Zakuro, what happens when he fucks with me."

"I've already lost enough money because of _you_ pulling this! Now he's gonna be out of action for _weeks_. If it was anyone else, I'd leave 'em here to die, but I-…_we_ need him. He's a fucking goldmine, and you nearly fucked it up!"

"Do you think I give a _fuck?_ I…"

"Hazel, just…_shut up_. I'm taking him home before he's out for any longer. If he dies, _you_ die. Remember, I have Kougaiji's backing, and I don't like you anywhere near as much as Banri did. Even Gat won't be able to save you."

Gojyo smiled softly as he lost the fight against the darkness. He was being treated like some sort of object, but…even if it was just because of his worth as a fucktoy, he was going home.

Maybe he'd still be able to make things right with Sanzo.

* * *

*******I'd forgotten that I actually named the club way back in chapter one. If I remember correctly, the reasons it's called L'Amour is because that's the name of the place mentioned in the Type O Negative song, "Unsuccessfully Coping with the Natural Beauty of Infidelity".

_The more you know…_

Also: where I live, Thursdays are a big clubbing night. Why, I'm not sure, but for this chapter I sort of made Wednesdays the same. I have no clue if it's like this in other, bigger places. Whatever!*******


	22. Chapter 22: I Find

*******I recently started playing 'Enslaved: Odyssey to the West'. It's funny because the Tripitaka/Sanzo character is female (which lends itself to some interesting story ideas…hmmm…) As far as I can tell, though, there's no kappa character. Sad.*******

* * *

Sanzo pushed his way into Gojyo's apartment, where he was promptly greeted by the sight of two strangers arguing emphatically in the front room.

One was the typical goon type, tall and muscle-bound in a dark suit; but the other…Sanzo momentarily forgot about Gojyo as he took in the shorter man, the one with dirty-blonde hair and what appeared to be an artfully tattered trench coat with the sleeves ripped off.

It looked _completely_ fucking ridiculous, particularly with the fact that when the man turned, Sanzo could see that his chest was bare.

This _had_ to be the flashy, narcissistic asshole he'd heard mentioned throughout the organisation: Zakuro.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Sanzo raised an eyebrow as the pimp faced him. There was no time for idle chat. "What do you want? Where's Gojyo?"

"Ah, you must be the notorious Sanzo. You know, I was _really_ surprised when I found out that the unknown man in a photo with one of my whores was such a-…"

Zakuro promptly cut off when a silver revolver was pointed in his direction. The goon quickly reached into his jacket, but Zakuro waved him down. "Impatient, Blondie?"

"I'll ask _once_ more. Why the fuck am I here?" Pulling back the hammer, Sanzo took a step towards Zakuro as the man raised both palms in mock surrender.

"Gojyo's in the bedroom. He's _your_ problem now." Gesturing to his silent lackey, Zakuro moved past Sanzo and out of the apartment. Just before he closed the door, though, he turned back to address Sanzo once more.

"Get him back to work as soon as possible, if you will. Otherwise, we might just have to add to his debt."

Sanzo barely heard the last part, deeming it irrelevant for the time being as he walked straight to the bedroom. Had Zakuro been the one to bring Gojyo back? Why did he _need_ bringing back in the first place? What had happened to him?

Sanzo began to feel somewhat worried.

Shoving back the bedroom door, he started into the room with an angry question on his lips. "Gojyo, where the _fu-…_Oh, _shit_!"

The last part was little more than a whisper to himself as he caught sight of the unconscious figure lying supine on the bed.

Gojyo's wrists and ankles were tied with rope, the areas around the binding looking bloody and raw. His gaze travelling across the redhead's body, Sanzo tried to take in the full severity of the injuries he could see, but there were just too many.

The fingers on Gojyo's left hand were swollen and horribly bruised, set at angles that looked terribly unnatural. Following on from them was a trail of bruises and cuts running up both arms, until bare skin met a tattered shirt.

Holes in the material showed an agonising-looking portrait of discolouration, external wounds combining with what Sanzo could only guess were severe internal injuries. Thankfully, Gojyo's pants were still intact and in place, with only the ends rolled up to display the rough-looking rope; he might not have been hurt like _that._ Now, there was only one visible place on Gojyo's body left to check.

Sanzo could already tell that it wasn't going to be a pretty sight.

His eyes swept upwards again, retracing the shabby-looking torso. He thought that he'd seen enough brutality in his life to be able to handle seeing Gojyo's trashed face.

He didn't expect the feeling of utter horror as he took in the dark, blotchy bruises around the man's jaw and eyes; the blood drying around his nose, cheek and forehead; the nasty scabbing across his bottom lip; and more blood drying together with unknown filth to matt his hair almost completely.

It barely looked like Gojyo.

* * *

The world began to slowly blur into view, but the light sent shocks of pain through Gojyo's already-excruciating head. Squeezing his eyes shut, Gojyo let out the smallest groan as the quick movement made his skull ache.

The redhead only became aware of the hand in his hair when it stilled, and he instinctively tried to shy away. If his head hit the ground again, he wasn't sure that he would wake up afterwards.

The hand began to shift once more, and Gojyo braced himself for the blow that was surely coming.

But…_wait_…didn't Zakuro…

And the light hadn't affected him before…

Gojyo now realised that the hand had drawn away without any pressure or agony. He heard someone move nearby, soft footsteps that didn't echo the way they should have.

He tried to think, but he couldn't focus his mind on anything other than the pain.

Nearby, a voice was speaking. The tone seemed familiar, almost soothing to a degree; but for the life of him, Gojyo couldn't place it.

He just knew that he didn't want the person to go.

"Hakkai, I...Listen, I need a favour. Get up and moving."

Hakkai? But Zakuro wouldn't know...

When the realisation hit, Gojyo desperately tried to open his eyes, but his body refused to cooperate. He had to know if it really _was_ Sanzo; he had to know that he wasn't just hallucinating.

Because he wouldn't go back to Hazel. He _couldn't _go back.

Focusing intently on the voice, Gojyo decided that it certainly _sounded _like Sanzo. The man was saying something…an address…_Gojyo's _address. Did that mean that he was…home?

A sharp pain suddenly ran from the back of Gojyo's head to the front, and he let out a weak moan as the ache sapped the last of his wavering consciousness.

"San…_zo_…"

* * *

"Hurry your fuckin' lazy ass the fuck up, Hakkai."

Putting his cell away, Sanzo turned back to the pitiful man on the bed, his breathing harsh and sharp as he passed out again after letting out a rasping, unintelligible noise.

Gojyo needed to get to a hospital; he had too many injuries to stay in his apartment. Even if Sanzo called his usual back-alley doctor, it wouldn't erase the fact that the redhead would probably need surgery on his hand, at the very _least_.

Calling an ambulance was out of the question: Sanzo couldn't tell legitimate doctors what Gojyo's fucking _surname_ was, let alone what had happened to him. And, on that note, Gojyo probably didn't exist to the legal bureaucracy, let alone have medical insurance. After all, Sanzo didn't technically exist either; every piece of identification he held was fake. Both of their jobs, as well as their upbringings, didn't really lend themselves to things such as birth certificates and social security numbers.

It was just too dangerous to take him to an unknown doctor at an unsafe hospital.

There had only been one option that Sanzo could come up with; and so he'd called Hakkai. The man _apparently_ had contacts all through the medical network, and although Sanzo was generally above believing gossip, he had no other choice.

Taking in the vision of the still-bound redhead, Sanzo debated with himself once again. He needed to cut the rope away before it fucked Gojyo's ankles and wrists too badly; but he didn't want to leave the man alone.

'_What the __**fuck**__? If he survived that much, he'll last a minute on his own. Why do I even care, anyway?' _Pushing his hair out of his eyes in irritation, Sanzo sent one last look in Gojyo's direction before striding out of the bedroom.

He returned just over a minute later, the sharpest knife he could locate in hand. Pulling the rope as far away from Gojyo's right wrist as possible- which really wasn't far- he quickly cut the binding without nicking the already-destroyed skin.

The swollen, raw patch left where the rope had been sitting was utterly disgusting.

The left wrist was more difficult, the broken fingers leaving painful-looking contusions all the way down to the rope. Gojyo seemed to whimper despondently when Sanzo eventually managed to get the cuff away from his wrist, some degree of pain being inevitable under the circumstances.

Not long after Gojyo's ankles had also been freed, a knock sounded on the door. Sanzo knew that Hakkai wouldn't come in without a proper greeting, regardless of whether the door was unlocked, open or completely non-existent, so he stalked to the front of the apartment.

Pulling the door open, Sanzo nodded once at the brunette before walking back towards the bedroom without a word.

"Good evening to you too, Sanzo. Or is it morning already? I didn't find the time to check."

The blonde ignored Hakkai's usual bitingly polite manner. He simply gestured for the man to follow, leading him back to where Gojyo slept.

"Now, Sanzo, where exactly are we? This isn't like you, I must say." Hakkai was, once again, ignored. The blonde didn't feel a need to explain himself, so he wasn't going to.

Moving into the bedroom, Sanzo simply pointed at the bed and waited for Hakkai to notice the man lying there.

"Oh, _my_…" Hakkai looked to where Sanzo was pointing, and his face immediately paled. Rushing to the bed, he took a quick check of Gojyo's pulse, counting the beats against his watch.

'_Now why didn't __**I**__ do that?' _Sanzo wondered vaguely, watching the process with detached fascination. Hakkai turned away from the bed, looking at Sanzo with concern.

"This is Gojyo, isn't it? What on Earth happened to him?"

The blonde gave a quick shrug; he had no idea, and he was trying not to think about it. The concept of someone _desecrating_ Gojyo like this…

"Sanzo? _Sanzo_. He needs to go to a hospital as soon as he possibly can." Hakkai was gently cutting away Gojyo's shirt with the abandoned knife, muttering softly to himself as he saw the extent of the torso's damage. Sanzo didn't particularly care to look, and so he focused on the brunette instead.

"You think I don't _know _that? But he can't go to a regular hospital, you idiot!"

Hakkai turned, arm outstretched in front of him. Sanzo raised an eyebrow, unsure of what the man wanted.

"Your _phone,_ please?" Glaring, Sanzo handed his cell over. Hakkai keyed in a number that he must have memorised extremely well, clearing his throat as he began talking to an unknown party.

"Yes, I'd like to speak with Professor Hwang, please. Tell her that it's Hakkai Cho."

There was a moment of silence, and then:

"Professor? Yes, I've got another one for you…He's currently unconscious, with probable broken ribs, a shattered hand, internal bleeding, superficial wounds the length of his body, a dislocated shoulder, and there's also a quite real possibility of head injuries."

Sanzo didn't know how Hakkai had managed to determine all that in such a short span of time; he just knew that he had made the right decision in bringing the brunette into this.

"Hmm? Oh, no bullet wounds this time, as far as I can tell. Listen, I believe that you'll need to send a team over; I apologise, but I don't think that I'll be able to get him to you without assistance," Hakkai stated, following with Gojyo's address- right down to the apartment number- completely from memory, before continuing, "It's really quite urgent…Thank you, Professor. I'll see you soon."

Sanzo glared suspiciously as Hakkai handed the phone back. Through gritted teeth he managed to spit out, "And who, precisely, was _that_?"

Hakkai was completely unflustered, turning back to Gojyo without any change in demeanour. "Professor Hwang is an…old friend of mine. She works at a private university hospital, and she occasionally handles some more _delicate_ cases. There's no need to be so distraught, Sanzo; Gojyo will be in safe hands, I promise. The professor will handle any invasive questions."

Sanzo's temper flared at the insinuation. He wasn't _distraught_; he was merely unwilling to have to deal with Gojyo's death. They were two completely different notions.

"I'm _not_…" Sanzo's tirade was cut off when Gojyo began to stir once more, his eyelids fluttering ever so slightly as his face contorted in pain. A weak, raspy voice gasped out once again, this time slightly easier to understand: "_Sanzo_…"

The blonde waited for Hakkai to make a comment as Gojyo drifted back to sleep, but as he _should_ have expected, it never came. Hakkai might have observed a lot more than any one person should, but at least he generally kept the things he saw to himself.

As such, the apartment remained mostly silent until Hakkai's mysterious medical team arrived.

Sanzo was endlessly grateful for that fact.

* * *

The blonde stood rather awkwardly in the back corner of the hospital waiting room, watching Hakkai and an older Korean woman with a perm talk intently about something that he couldn't hear.

As expected, Gojyo had been rushed into intensive care, his official story being something suitably vague about a traffic accident. Sanzo hadn't seen the slightest bit of paperwork and no one had asked him any questions, despite the fact that he had clearly been with Gojyo when the redhead was admitted.

He was somewhat impressed by what Hakkai had clearly managed to set up here.

Sanzo barely looked up from the floor when he realised that the pair were approaching him, both wearing matching expressions of concern. It was Hakkai who spoke first.

"Sanzo, this is Professor Hwang. She'll handle everything, so don't wor-…"

Sanzo cut Hakkai off before he could say anything _too_ infuriating. He finally looked at the woman properly, fixing her with a harsh glare. "Is his condition likely to change anytime soon?"

The doctor opened her mouth to speak, but Sanzo read from her expression that it was going to be little more than the usual professional reassurance. He scowled harder in warning, and she quickly dropped the mask of comfort. It seemed that she knew what, if not _who_, he was, and realised that he didn't want or need empty reassurance.

"No. The patient is unlikely to become coherent, and it's _highly_ unlikely that he will die now that we've got him here. I can pass you off as family if you want to stay, but…"

"That won't be necessary. Hakkai, I'm leaving. If you want a lift, get your ass moving." Sanzo had driven Hakkai's jeep to the hospital, as the brunette had gone with Gojyo and the paramedics in the nondescript 'patient transit' van.

"Sir, it'll be quite alright if yo-…"

"Shut up."

"Now, now, Sanzo, don't be so…"

"Shut. The Hell. Up."

"Oh, Sanzo, I know you're worried, but…"

"_Shut up!"_

Whirling around, Sanzo stomped towards the front exit of the hospital. He was fucking exhausted, and the _last_ thing he needed was people coming to false conclusions about himself and Gojyo. Hakkai wasn't helping, making the sort of comments that he was, and it was only feeding the blonde's bad mood. Sanzo dreaded to think what the brunette had told his doctor friend.

Someone quickly walked up beside him, and Sanzo's naturally sharp observation quickly informed him that it was just Hakkai. Taking the jeep's keys out of his pocket, Sanzo thrust them in front of the quiet man, shaking them a little when Hakkai made no move to take them.

"If you're coming, then you can drive your own lazy ass. Just drop me off on the way." Sanzo fought back a yawn, stubbornly keeping his tired state to himself. The keys were promptly removed from his hand, and the blonde fell back into silence.

Stepping out into the still-warm night, Sanzo jolted when Hakkai's hand suddenly landed on his shoulder. "Don't touch me."

For once, Hakkai obeyed and removed his touch, but he wasn't finished yet. Stepping around until he was in front of Sanzo, he waited until purple eyes met his own before speaking. "Don't do anything rash, Sanzo."

With a snort of disgust, the blonde pushed past Hakkai and kept walking. He wasn't going to do anything stupid for _Gojyo's_ sake.

He was just going to find the guy who trashed what was _his_, rip out the bastard's oesophagus and then shove it so far up his ass that it would be perfectly back in place.


	23. Chapter 23: I Drift

*******If you _really_ want to know why this chapter took so long to appear, my excuse (in picture form!) is on my LiveJournal (under 'SocialDegen'). Otherwise, here's chapter number Michael Jordan (What? I played basketball for thirteen years, give me a break!)

Oh, and apparently I swear too much. Fuck that fucking shit!*******

* * *

"Sanzo. _Saannn-_zo_. _Oi, kid!"

Dokugakuji waved his hand in front of Sanzo's eyes, earning him a fierce scowl and his hand slapped away. Letting out a quick laugh, the older man crossed his arms and stared across at the blonde object of his attention.

"What is _with_ you today? I know it's not your usual job to follow me around, but you could at least try to _look_ interested. Y'know, people usually bend over backwards to stay off my bad side."

"So you've mentioned. _Multiple _times." Huffing indignantly, Sanzo turned to look out the heavily tinted windows of Doku's chauffeured car. Quite frankly, he didn't give a shit what his boss thought. He wasn't in the mood to act like he was paying attention, and so he simply wasn't going to.

"Something's on your mind. Spill it."

Sanzo refused to even dignify that with a response. He didn't particularly feel like explaining that a male whore, one he'd slept with only a couple of times, had been put into hospital the previous night with severe injuries; and that he was currently planning horrific vengeance on whoever had inflicted the damage.

Especially when Sanzo couldn't quite determine _why_ he was so Hell-bent on revenge. It wasn't as if he'd been personally inconvenienced by the whole saga; he'd just missed out on a bit of sleep.

And yet, the main focus of his thoughts was whether ripping out the unknown person's eyes or tongue would be a better start.

What _was_ it about Gojyo that made Sanzo want to defend his- already fairly dubious- honour? There was nothing particularly special about the man; he was just another whore out working someone new every single night. Not to mention the fact that he was an annoying little shit who had probably _deserved_-…

'_No, he didn't.'_ A new little voice in Sanzo's head cut across his usual vitriolic thoughts, drawing him even further away from the present. '_You know that he didn't __**deserve **__to be beaten half to death.'_

Sanzo's eyes narrowed as he began an internal argument. He completely missed the way Doku was watching him intently, curiosity written all over his face as he witnessed one of his favourite employees going slightly insane.

'_I don't give a __**fuck**__ what he did or didn't do. It's not my problem that he clearly can't pick good clients.'_

'_Oh? And what would you consider to be a "good" client?'_

'_How about one that doesn't try to __**kill him?**_'

'_But you said that you don't want anything from him. You don't care whether he lives or dies, right?'_

'_That's not what I me-…'_

'_Face it. You don't want him to have __**any **__clients, and seeing him lying there, unconscious…it was just like when Sanzo bled out right in front of your fragile little thirteen-year-old eyes, and so you're getting ang-…"_

Scowling, Sanzo caught himself just before he put his fist through the car window. A deep laugh caught his attention, and he suddenly remembered that he was sitting next to his boss, having an argument with his own mind.

Gang life often took its toll on the unlucky ones, the people who didn't die from drugs or organisational rivalries; some degree of insanity was _already_ present in most of the members that Sanzo knew, the mental instability showing more in older men than the younger ones.

But he'd never met anyone in his line of work who suddenly lost their entire mind at twenty-three.

Pushing his hair back away from his face, Sanzo refused to fully face Doku. He could now feel the man's eyes on him, a million questions probably ready to fall from his lips. This car ride seemed to be taking forever; couldn't all the bastards currently clogging up the streets just drive themselves straight into the ocean? '_They'd be doing the world one Hell of a fucking favour,' _Sanzo thought uncharitably.

"Kid…what _was-.._"

"Don't fucking start," Sanzo snapped over the top of Dokugakuji's aborted question. Suddenly, a hand grabbed the front of the blonde's shirt, and he found himself being forcibly turned around in his seat.

"I think we can both agree that I give you a Hell of a lot of leeway. If _anyone_ else acted the way I let you, they wouldn't have lasted five fucking seconds in my business. But I let you get away with a lot because you're damn good at what you do. If you keep this disrespectful, distracted _air-head _act up any longer, though, I won't hesitate to have you 'replaced'." Doku's face was no longer smiling or curious, his mood becoming more and more dangerous with every word.

Sanzo's lip curled, but he stayed silent. Doku was a vicious, remorseless killer beneath the joking air he usually exuded; it wasn't wise to push him when he got like this. Obviously, Sanzo had snapped at him one too many times.

"Now tell me why the fuck you can't stay focused for longer than a minute, and I won't shoot your pretty little face off."

Sanzo's eye twitched as he weighed his options.

He could take his chances with his usual silent attitude, and hope like Hell that Doku was bluffing; or he could give the man _just_ enough information to keep him happy.

Eventually, Sanzo decided that- for once- the better option was to open his mouth. As he began to speak, the hand in his shirt loosened and he settled into a more comfortable position.

"My…so-called 'friend', the one from the other day?" Doku nodded, showing that he remembered his earlier teasing of the blonde, "He's…Oh, for fuck's sake, the guy is lying half-dead in hospital. Okay? Are you fucking satisfied?"

Doku's violent mood suddenly disappeared, instantly replaced by something that made Sanzo scowl: pity. He didn't need _pity_; he didn't care about Gojyo either, it was just the easiest way to get the older man off his back.

'_I thought we'd already established that you __**do**__ care?'_

'_**SHUT THE FUCK UP!**__'_

Sanzo wondered vaguely whether his not-quite-legal doctor would perform a quick lobotomy and get rid of that goddamned annoying voice.

Doku was saying something, but the blonde only caught the tail end. Once he decoded the missing words, though, he rather wished that he'd ignored the whole lot.

"…go see him?" Doku tilted his head slightly, trying to look directly into Sanzo's eyes- not that the blonde was making it an easy task.

"If you just asked what I _think_ you asked, the answer is not in a million years."

Doku's hand flashed out, lightly whacking Sanzo on the side of his head. It took all the younger man's self control not to shoot his boss then and there for his impudence.

"I know you like being a cold, stubborn prick, but you're of no use to me today. We're like two blocks away; get your ass out of here and go visiting."

"I don't need you to tell me how to run my life. I'm paid to do a _job_, and I'm damn well not fluttering off to see some guy I could barely give two shits about." Crossing his arms, Sanzo stared off to the side of Doku's head. He wasn't about to look directly at the bastard next to him.

This time, he didn't even see the hand that hit him slightly harder. "Sanzo, if I've got all my info right, you should get the fuck over to that hospital. If this is the guy you slept with, and you saw him again, then I _know_ that you don't totally hate him. Face it, kid: I know how you operate"

Sanzo stared wide-eyed at a spot _just _to the left of Doku's head. He knew? How the fuck did he _know?_ He couldn't…he didn't…_What?_

"Huh…so I was right. Sanzo, go. You can't be an asshole all the time, no matter how hard you try."

The blonde barely heard the words, mind and heart rate racing. Doku knew he was gay. '_No wonder the "girlfriend __**or**__ boyfriend" jokes have increased lately…but still…'_

Sanzo wasn't ashamed of his preferences, but it was just _easier_ if no one knew. His temper just didn't handle invasive questions and ridiculous mocking, and Doku would probably be a little pissed if Sanzo offed everyone who even _mentioned_ the fact he was gay.

Having zoned out once more, Sanzo fell back into reality with the business end of a pistol pointed directly at his face. He was somewhat proud of the fact that he didn't so much as flinch; he just glared over the gun at Dokugakuji.

"Get the fuck out, kid. We're even closer now. I'll call you when I want you again, and if I see you _anywhere_ near the building until then, I'll slip Hazel some Viagra and sic him onto you."

Sanzo raised an eyebrow at the threat: it was certainly inventive, which the blonde could appreciate even in his current pissed-off state.

He heard the pistol's safety click off, and he reached for the doorhandle. As much as he hated losing, he had grown quite attached to living, and wasn't _quite _ready to give it up.

The car stopped at a set of traffic lights, and Sanzo stepped right out into the middle of the road. Quickly turning to look through the still-open door, he snarled at his boss. "I'll kill you later. When you're least expecting it, you prick."

As he slammed the door and stalked right across three lanes of honking traffic, he heard Doku's faint laughter. Glaring at anything and everything, Sanzo finally took the time to examine his surroundings. The university hospital was just around the corner…well, he was in the area…he may as well drop in to see if Gojyo had woken yet…

Damning Doku to Hell, Sanzo wandered in the direction of the hospital. He probably wouldn't be able to get in to see the redhead anyway; he wasn't family, and the man was most likely still in Intensive Care.

But who knew what Hakkai's shady doctor friend would let him do. It wasn't like they'd followed the rules thus far; and it wasn't like he had anything better to do…or any way to get home anytime soon.

Fuck it. He'd go visit the sleeping prat. At least seeing Gojyo with his mouth shut would be a novel experience.

* * *

Gojyo was quickly becoming accustomed to waking up in a state of pure agony. It had gotten old after the first time, though.

Trying to adjust himself to the light, Gojyo darted his eyes around a little. He didn't recognise this room; it was sterile and clinical, a world away from the dingy basement he'd been in for God knows how long.

But he'd been rescued from there…by Zakuro.

Fuck, he was always getting _rescued_. He could never do a goddamn thing for himself. Zakuro had saved him from Hazel; Banri had saved him from the streets; Sanzo and Hakkai had then saved him from Banri; and Jien…

Jien had saved him from their mother so many times that Gojyo couldn't even come up with a ballpark figure. He was pathetic.

Trying to ward off the imminent bout of self pity, the redhead jolted slightly when he heard a nearby door open. For the first time, he noticed that his mouth was covered by some sort of mask, and something was pressing uncomfortably into his inner elbow.

"Oh, you're awake. How are you feeling?" A soft female voice filled the room, and Gojyo tried to turn his head towards the visitor. The resulting pain had him giving up, and he settled for slowly lifting the mask away so that he could speak.

"Where am I?" His voice sounded weak and rasping, and he winced at the pathetic noise.

"You're in the hospital, Mr Gojyo. You were in a car accident."

Gojyo frowned. He didn't remember any accident…the woman must have been mistaken…

"No, I wasn't…_Hazel_…" There was that pathetic voice once more. It didn't occur to Gojyo that talking about what he'd been through mightn't be the best idea. The medicinal drugs in his system were more than enough to remove his already-tenuous inhibitions and common sense.

Luckily, the woman let out a quiet laugh. "I know. But you might not want to talk about that here; according to the official records, you were hit by a car and your brother brought you in."

Gojyo's entire body tensed, but he barely felt the pain. His brother? Who did she mean?

Could it really have been…Jien?

'_That's ridiculous. How would he have found you in the first place? Sanzo was with you in your apartment…did he somehow find Jien? Or is that just part of the cover?'_

A monotonous beeping rang out, and the woman began speaking in quieter tones. She must have been speaking into a phone, or something along those lines.

"Yes, I'm with him now…Mmm-hmm, that should be fine. Let him in."

Soft footsteps approached, and Gojyo finally caught sight of the woman. She was older, and had a pleasant expression on her face. "Your, ah, brother is coming up to see you. You'll be fine without the mask now that you're awake, so don't worry."

All Gojyo heard was the second reference to his brother. He knew that there was no _possible _way that she meant Jien; but he still couldn't stop himself from hoping against hope that his estranged sibling had made a sudden reappearance.

The woman stepped away, pacing around the room and writing things with an irritatingly scratchy pen. She didn't say anything else, and Gojyo found himself caught in suspense.

The minutes stretched by almost painfully, Gojyo not focused on his unknown amount of injuries because his mind was so busy. The machine next to him read that his heart rate was speeding up, and when the door opened once more he forced his neck to turn towards the entrance.

It hurt like a bitch, but if it really _was_ Jien, then it would be worth it.

The first thing that Gojyo saw of the new arrival was a flash of blonde hair, and his heart sank.

It wasn't Jien; it was Sanzo.

Normally, Gojyo would have been more than happy to see the best-looking man he'd ever met. This time, though, he'd built his anticipation so high that anyone short of his brother was a disappointment.

"Oh, Sanzo. It's you." The drugs struck again, and Gojyo couldn't keep the dismay from his weak voice. A bizarre expression flashed across the blonde's face, and he turned away without taking more than a step into the room.

Gojyo's eyes widened, and he tried to sit up. "No, Sanzo…I didn't mean it li-…"

The footsteps continued up the corridor, and Gojyo fell back against the bed as he found that he physically couldn't move more than an inch or two.

"Get him back…please, don't let him go," Gojyo rasped to the woman who was looking down at him with concern on her face. She nodded, setting off after Sanzo as Gojyo screwed his eyes shut. One of these days, Sanzo was going to give up and refuse to see him ever again.

Gojyo tried to ignore the comparisons his mind was making between that thought and his brother's estrangement. One was his only known relative; the other was a man who he'd been screwed by a couple of times.

'_But they're both the only ones to ever treat you like you were worth something.'_

* * *

Sanzo walked back along a path he'd followed only seconds earlier, muttering angrily to himself about ungrateful whores and disrespectful assholes. '_It's like that bastard and Doku are working together to piss me off as much as they possibly can.'_

"Sir, wait! The patient would really appreciate it if you…"

The doctor cut herself off as Sanzo whirled around, fire blazing in his purple eyes.

"Don't fucking try to tell me what I should do! It's obvious that he doesn't give a shit, and neither do I."

The woman blanched, but she quickly recovered and stepped as close to Sanzo as she dared. "He's pumped full of medication, and he suddenly started acting quite strangely when I told him of his cover. He's not at his best, so please cut him a little slack."

Eyes narrowing, Sanzo placed his hands on his hips and stared down at the woman. "What did you tell him, exactly?"

"The cover that Hakkai _told_ me to put down. That he was in a car accident, and that his brother brought him in."

The pieces fell together for Sanzo, and he groaned in irritation. "You _stupid_…I'll fucking _kill_ Hakkai! Gojyo hasn't seen his brother since he was nine! Fuck!"

Suddenly concerned, Sanzo pushed past the doctor and returned to the redhead's room. The atmosphere felt tense, with sadness radiating from the reclining figure; it was almost painful to experience.

"Feel free to bitchslap that bastard Hakkai the next time you see him." Sanzo's voice was gruff, and he stood somewhat awkwardly off to the side of the bed. Gojyo looked horrible; an IV bit into his arm, a breathing mask sat loosely around his neck and bandages crisscrossed every visible patch of skin.

"What? Why?" The rough rasp of Gojyo's voice made Sanzo wonder if he'd been dehydrated: wherever he'd been, he probably hadn't been given a luxury like water.

"Because he was the one who told the doctor to say I was your brother." Sanzo didn't feel the need to say anything else, and he stepped back to lean against the wall with his arms crossed.

It was probably the drugs, but Gojyo's mood seemed to change instantly. "Oh, well. You're _much _hotter than…Jien…"

Sanzo stayed silent. He generally tried to avoid potentially awkward conversations like the one he could sense approaching. But, all of a sudden, Gojyo changed direction.

"Tell you what, babe…I'll forgive you for getting my hopes up if you come over here and kiss me."

Sanzo snorted, irritation- but not anger- flaring at the redhead's usual audacity. "Don't fucking call me that, and you can get stuffed. Talk to me when you're _not_ higher than a freaking kite."

Gojyo let out a wavering laugh, and Sanzo felt his muscles loosen.

The redhead was going to be fine.

Not that he could say the same for whoever had hurt Gojyo. That much was certain.


	24. Chapter 24: She Accuses

*******This took way too long; I went back to my other unfinished fic, as well as my sequel to 'ABL'. Plus there were a couple of days when I was too hungover to write (Belated b'day celebrations + Australia Day + an incredibly noxious drinking game at both = a very drunk SocialDegen), and it feels like now that I've handed in my resignation at work, they're trying to run me into the ground before I leave, ha ha! Sorry about that.

I should mention: my medical knowledge is severely lacking, and I don't have time to do shitloads of research. So if (read as: when) things aren't quite right, just remember that it's fiction :D*******

* * *

"Talk to me when you're _not_ higher than a freaking kite."

Gojyo's head and ribs ached as he let out a weak laugh at Sanzo's brush-off, but it was worth it to see the grumpy man's lips twitch upwards for a moment or two. Instinctively, the redhead pressed his hand against his chest to try and alleviate the pain, but he let out a yelp when the throbbing actually _increased_.

"You fucking idiot." Sanzo, still leaning against the wall to Gojyo's side, shook his head with amused disgust. The redhead looked down at the hand now resting limply across his heart, and he groaned.

He'd almost forgotten what Hazel had done to every finger on his left hand. The entire area was a mass of bandages, both regular and adhesive, until only very small patches of tanned skin showed through the white.

"Shit, shit, _shit_!" Raising his arm, Gojyo stared at his ruined hand. What the fuck was he going to do now? His left was _much_ better for hand jobs than his right. He'd known people who couldn't make a proper fist after breaking a couple of fingers…hopefully, that weird-ass shady doctor woman could actually do something to help him.

"You'll be going into surgery for that tomorrow. We'll need to put pins in there, and hopefully you'll be able to use it as normal."

Gojyo started a little, not having noticed the doctor re-entering the room. Wary of the fact that he couldn't actually see the woman from his position on his back, he started to sit up.

When a hand pressed gently against his shoulder, he froze. Sanzo, suddenly far closer than he had been, shook his head again. "Don't."

Frowning up at the blonde in confusion, Gojyo wondered why Sanzo had chosen to stretch across his body and touch the opposite side, rather than just go for the closest shoulder. He glanced down at the ignored joint before looking back at Sanzo, a silent question in his gaze.

"Dislocated. Hakkai told me." The blonde seemed short of words all of a sudden, and he stepped away from the bed once more.

Gojyo wasn't entirely sure why Sanzo wanted him to lie still, but he assumed that it had something to do with the pain lancing through his chest. If he remembered correctly, Hazel had done quite a number on his ribs…

"Would you like-…" The woman started to speak again, but Gojyo cut her off.

"Sorry, but would you mind coming a bit closer? I don't like talking to people I can't see."

The doctor appeared in Gojyo's comfortable line of sight, and he smiled.

Then he grimaced.

"Ow, _fuck!_ It feels like my bottom lip tore clean in half." He meant it as a- fairly weak- joke, but the doctor frowned and Sanzo rolled his eyes.

"That's because it _did_, Team Brain Trust."

Clearing her throat, the doctor shot Sanzo a dirty look, the blonde returning it tenfold. She bent to pick up the chart from the end of Gojyo's bed, and turned back to her patient.

"I'm sorry, I just realised that I haven't introduced myself. I'm Professor Hwang, and Hakkai asked me to look after you."

'_Well, that explains her line about 'official records'. I wonder what other bullshit that guy wove about me…' _Gojyo nodded to show that he understood the implications of her last sentence, and Professor Hwang continued.

"Now that you're awake, I was going to ask if you'd like us to increase your dosage of painkilling drugs. From what I've seen so far, you're fully aware, so we can put you on a stronger amount. We're always just cautious when we don't know what we're dealing with."

Gojyo bit his lip, gasping when his teeth caught the wound that was apparently there. He didn't want to take a lot of drugs if he didn't have to: he hadn't avoided street addiction for this long just to fuck it up by getting hooked on morphine.

He needed a second opinion.

"Oi, blonde, beautiful and pissy: what d'you think? Should I let her hit me with the hard shit?" Even lying brokenly in a hospital bed, Gojyo couldn't resist riling Sanzo a little further. Besides, even his asshole of a lover wouldn't hurt an already-injured man.

Gojyo's breath caught as he realised what his mind had said, and he started coughing uncontrollably. 'His lover'? Since when had he considered Sanzo to be a lover, let alone _his_?

Too much intimacy was implied in those words; intimacy that he'd never even come _close_ to finding in the twenty-two years that he'd been alive. He didn't see Sanzo like that. All he saw was an insulting, mean prick who looked good and was a great fuck.

Not a lover.

Sanzo, unaware of the mental panic that Gojyo was fighting, waited patiently for the redhead's painful-looking coughing fit to subside before he exploded. When silence finally reigned again, the blonde took a deep breath.

"What the _fuck_ have I told you about calling me shit like that? I swear, I don't give a crap if you're already half dead, I'll take you the rest of the fucking way!"

Gojyo, still somewhat dazed from his mind's odd behaviour, barely heard Sanzo's predictable snapping. Nor did he hear the doctor, angrily attempting to chastise the blonde for his inappropriate behaviour.

"Sir, I don't _care_ if Hakkai practically pleaded with me to give you full access to the patient…though gods know why he would bother, you only seem to be making things worse…but if you keep yelling like that, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. This is Intensive Care: I can't allow you to cause potentially dangerous problems."

"Gojyo," Sanzo growled, making it obvious that he was ignoring the professor. It took a few seconds before the redhead realised he was being addressed, but eventually he tipped his head in Sanzo's direction.

"Yes, you grumpy son of a bitch?"

"You don't need the harder shit. Man up and deal with a bit of pain."

Gojyo nodded awkwardly, turning his attention back to the doctor. "You heard the man. I'll be fine."

Professor Hwang pursed her lips, but she nodded reluctantly. "If you say so. But remember: pain hinders the body's ability to heal. If it gets too bad, I'm upping you. Now, Mr Sanzo, if I could have a word to you outside?"

Gojyo frowned. He didn't like being left alone, especially when he couldn't move. He was far too much of a social creature for that sort of thing.

Besides, what could the doctor _possibly _have to speak to Sanzo about? His curiosity increased when the blonde nodded silently and followed the woman away.

What was it that they didn't want him to hear?

* * *

Sanzo stood in the hallway, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face. He was hoping that there was a good reason for Professor Hwang to be dragging him out here.

The woman looked up and down the corridor before speaking, as if she was checking for eavesdroppers or spies. Then, a deadly serious expression across her features, she stared up at Sanzo.

"How did your friend receive his injuries?"

Raising an eyebrow, Sanzo scoffed. "You think _I _know? He disappeared on Tuesday, and then I get a call telling me to go to his apartment last night, where he was passed out in the bedroom looking like _that_."

The doctor's eyes narrowed. "So you have no idea what- or who- did this to him? Absolutely no clue?"

"I'm not going to repeat myself."

Sanzo watched as the woman seemed to put all the facts together, making her mind up about something. When she took a step closer, he became suspicious.

"From what I've seen of _you_, I'm not so sure that you're telling me the truth."

His upper lip curled, and Sanzo resisted the urge to pull his gun on the accusing woman. "And what, exactly, are you implying?"

"I'm not implying anything. I'm merely observing the fact that I've seen more than one tough-guy gangster, beating up on his partner when he felt worried about his masculinity."

Sanzo felt his arm drawing back to take a swing at the idiot standing before him, but he stopped himself before he could fuck up Gojyo's chance for proper treatment, stuffing his hand into his pocket instead.

"You think _I_ did this? I hate to burst your fucking little bubble, woman, but there can't be domestic violence when there's no domesticity to speak of. Get your facts straight before you start accusing me of bullshit like that."

Professor Hwang looked momentarily surprised, but she covered it quickly. "I still don't qui-…"

She cut herself off when Sanzo turned away, the blonde storming over to wrench Gojyo's door open. Sticking his head into the room, he snapped out a question. "Hey, dickhead! Am I the one who beat the shit out of you?"

A short, pained laugh sounded from the bed. "What? Fuck no! You were the one who saved m-…"

The room door shut with a bang, and Sanzo turned back to the doctor with a vaguely smug expression on his face. "See?"

The doctor was obviously not amused, and she glared over at Sanzo with a calculating look in her eyes. She clearly wasn't entirely convinced, but eventually she turned and walked back towards Sanzo and the door to Gojyo's room.

"I'll allow you to stay, because the patient is clearly comfortable with you. But _one_ more outburst like that, and I'll have you barred."

Sanzo made no reply, merely following the doctor into the room. He didn't appreciate being accused of beating Gojyo unconscious; as much as the man irritated him, it just wasn't his style to prolong violence. A bullet to the head was quicker, easier and a lot less messy, as long as he stayed out of splatter range.

He might have occasionally made exceptions to that rule, but if he had've done so in Gojyo's case, then he wouldn't be standing in a hospital right about now.

Sanzo wasn't all that fond of hospitals. The sterility grated on his nerves, as well as the uppity doctors who thought themselves to be superiour to everyone else. He was only here in the first place because he had nothing better to do…and also because he needed some information from Gojyo.

Frowning, the blonde settled back into his position against the wall. He watched the doctor as she wrote something on the chart she was still carrying, before she moved to the opposite side of the bed to Sanzo.

"Now, Mr Gojyo, I have a few questions to ask you. In order to avoid arousing suspicion, I need to get some details from you."

Gojyo turned his face towards the doctor, away from the blonde's line of sight, and Sanzo was forced to stop and wonder why that pissed him off so much. It wasn't like the redhead was particularly aesthetically pleasing at this point in time. In fact, he looked like one massive bruise.

"Fire away." Gojyo's voice was getting stronger, but it still rasped quietly. Sanzo quietly decided that once the doctor fucked off, he'd be having his _own_ little interrogation session with the injured man. At least it no longer sounded like it hurt the redhead to talk.

"What's your full name?" Sanzo's eyes widened slightly as he realised that _he_ didn't even know the answer to that one. He'd never really felt the need to ask.

"Gojyo Sha. Oh, and you can just call me Gojyo. None of that 'Mister' shit."

The doctor muttered something under her breath, pen scribbling on the chart. Sanzo fell deep into thought, wondering if there was any use for the information he'd just received.

Now that he had a full name, he could easily search back into the man's past. But then again, there probably wasn't all that much to know. Gojyo had voluntarily told him about family, and some of his childhood…and he knew what the redhead had been doing since fourteen…

Sanzo felt a shudder run through him, and he fought the familiar feeling of disgust. The idea of sick bastards buying a fourteen-year-old still made him want to be a little sick…it hit too close to why he'd first turned the _real _Sanzo's gun on another human being.

Realising that he was now staring at the ground, Sanzo lifted his head and returned to reality just as the doctor nodded and wrote something else. Damn, he'd missed a question.

"So that would make you…twenty-two? Is that correct?"

"Uh-huh." Gojyo winced as he stupidly tried to scratch a spot on his face with his left hand. Sanzo couldn't help but roll his eyes again; the man just didn't learn. At least he hadn't tried to sit up this time.

"Okay, I have just one more question for now. Do you have a family member that we can put down for next of kin?"

Sanzo glared at the doctor. She was an idiot. A soft, bitter laugh came from the man in the bed, and Sanzo was suddenly glad that he could no longer see Gojyo's face. He could easily imagine the sort of 'kicked puppy' expression that the redhead would have.

"No. None that I can find alive, in any case."

The doctor frowned yet again. "What about a partner?"

"Nope."

"Hmmm? What about him?" Sanzo's face curled into a scowl as Professor Hwang pointed at him. Wasn't she through presuming shit about him and Gojyo yet?

The redhead laughed again, only this time it was truly amused rather than melancholic. When he turned his face back to Sanzo, the blonde found himself drawn in by those near-hypnotic red eyes.

"That's fucking classic! No, Sanzo over there is just a…friend. Put him down, though, if he agrees. Actually, stuff it. Put him down anyway. Wanna be my next of kin?"

Sanzo's eyes narrowed even further at Gojyo's suddenly-cheerful attitude. "If I didn't want to marry you, then why would I want to be officially connected to you like that?"

For a split second, Gojyo looked confused. It soon disappeared, though, to be replaced by a slightly embarrassed expression. "I was _drunk_, you ass! Besides, you'd make me be the bride, I can just tell."

Sanzo could guess that normally, Gojyo would have a smirk plastered all over his mouth right about now. But, with that nasty-looking split lip causing him quite a bit of discomfort, the corners of his mouth simply twitched a little.

"Damn _straight_ I would. Good to see that you know your place." Sanzo took a little pleasure from the doctor's utterly lost expression, knowing that she couldn't understand a thing they were talking about. He could see laughter dancing in Gojyo's eyes, and for some unknown reason, that made him give in to the man's utterly retarded request.

"Tch. Whatever. Put me down." He quickly listed his details for the bitch of a doctor, who seemed to be struggling to keep up. Oh, well. He didn't like repeating himself, as he'd already informed her.

Looking down from the woman and her chart, Sanzo saw that Gojyo was still watching him. "What?"

One of the redhead's eyebrows quirked upwards. "I _knew_ you liked me."

Sanzo glared in Gojyo's direction, not that the expression seemed to affect the other man anymore. "Maybe I just want to be the first to celebrate when you die."

"Sure, sure. Whatever helps you sleep better at night."

* * *

Gojyo guessed that Sanzo was hanging around for a reason. Otherwise, why would the man still be standing there as the doctor wandered about, checking over various beeping machines and writing shit on that little chart of hers?

When the woman finally left the room with the promise of returning later, Gojyo turned all his focus towards the quiet blonde. The man had taken a few steps forward at some point, and now he stood tall over the bed with his hands on suit-clad hips.

He wasted no time in getting straight to the point.

"Who did this, Gojyo?"

Swallowing hard, Gojyo's mind raced. There was no way that he could tell Sanzo what had really happened; the man would be utterly disgusted by his stupidity, and would probably never come back. _Especially _when he realised that Gojyo had lied to him about why Hazel had approached them that Monday.

Gojyo didn't want to lose the only visitor he'd get while lying in the hospital.

But how could he explain his injuries without mentioning Hazel? Besides, after the morning prior to his capture, he wasn't game to mention _anything_ related to his job. That sort of talk seemed to have a very odd effect on Sanzo.

"I…I really don't remember. Someone got the drop on me when I was walking home, and everything after that is just…black." He was a little glad that his hoarse voice added a rather pathetic element to the lie. He needed to be believable.

Sanzo stared directly into his eyes, and the intensity of the look was a little nerve-wracking. Gojyo felt goosebumps breaking out across his arms…what a _weird_ reaction.

"If you're lying to me, Gojyo, I _will_ find out."

"Why do you even _care?_" Gojyo couldn't help the words that almost exploded from his mouth. He'd known that Sanzo was going to ask something, but he didn't understand why the man would want to know who'd hurt him.

His eyes widened as he remembered what Sanzo had done to Rick, in that alley…it felt like it had happened months ago.

A very, _very _bad feeling stole over him.

"Sanzo, _please_ don't pull any shit because of me. I can handle myself…don't get involved. Please."

The look of utter displeasure now being sent in his direction almost made Gojyo give up and tell Sanzo everything. Only by turning his head away could he regain his control, and he breathed deeply, ignoring the way that made his ribs ache painfully.

"I'll do whatever I see fit. If you won't answer my questions, then someone else will."

"But Sanz-…"

Gojyo could only watch as Sanzo turned away, stalking from the room and slamming the door loudly behind him.

He still didn't quite understand why the man was so interested in what had happened…but there was nothing he could do, stuck nearly motionless in a hospital bed.

He desperately hoped that if Sanzo somehow managed to discover that it was Hazel, he was strong enough to make it out alive.

Gojyo didn't know what he'd do if Sanzo _died_ on his account.


	25. Chapter 25: You Trip

*******The other day when I was cleaning up, I saw my copy of volume 3 of the original Saiyuki manga sitting next to my 'Appetite for Destruction' CD, and I had the weirdest thought: physically, Gojyo strongly reminds me of a young Axl Rose (with a bit more muscle). Now I just can't shake the image.

Well, Axl _was_ sexy as fuck back in the day.*******

* * *

Sanzo stormed towards the hospital exit, nurses and doctors staring nervously at him as he walked directly down the middle of the hallways, forcing everyone else to move out of his way or be shoved over.

From the corner of his eye he saw Professor Hwang, but he paid her no heed and she returned the favour. Pulling his cell phone from his pocket, Sanzo dialled the number for his no-questions-asked information source.

"Yeah."

"Call me back with the location of a bastard named Zakuro. He's one of Kougaiji's pimps."

"Got it."

Sanzo was pissed at Gojyo for not answering his simple question. His gut told him that the redhead actually _did_ remember who'd tried to kill him; and being lied to was something that Sanzo just couldn't tolerate.

Killing the call connection, Sanzo then ordered a cab to the hospital. If Gojyo was going to be an uncooperative prick, then he wasn't going back inside to see him. Rather, he was going to track down Zakuro, because the man had obviously known where Gojyo was all that time.

And if he had to beat the information out of the pimp, well, that's what he was going to do.

* * *

As the time passed, Gojyo found himself becoming more and more worried. He had no idea how long it would take Sanzo to find out that Hazel was the man he was looking for; and then how long it would take the blonde to find the loanshark.

For all he knew, Sanzo was already dead.

Stuck in his hospital bed, Gojyo felt _worse_ than useless. He couldn't stop Sanzo by himself, and he didn't know any way to contact someone who could. The blonde was walking into the lion's den…and it was all Gojyo's fault.

The redhead felt sick to his stomach, and it threw him more than any of the physical pains he was feeling.

Shifting uncomfortably on the bed, Gojyo sighed. He wasn't used to being so alone and helpless, unable to do a single thing for himself. Fucking Hazel, fucking Zakuro, fucking _Banri_, even…

His still-usable hand clenched in the bed sheets as he practically growled like an animal, deep and long.

He had no one to blame for all this shit except himself. It went back to his 'great' idea about ripping off a loanshark; and now an innocent was, for some reason that Gojyo decided he'd figure out later, completely and totally involved.

The redhead couldn't stop the laugh that escaped from his mouth as he realised what he'd thought. Sanzo? An _innocent_? Holy shit, but that was a good one.

From what Gojyo had seen, Sanzo was far from innocent. The man was violently impulsive, with a nasty temper and an itchy trigger finger. His conscience also seemed to be a _little_ on the skewed side.

But…there was something else there. Something that didn't appear very often.

Gojyo had once screwed a female client who then paid him to stay the night. When he'd woken up in her bed, she had been simply sitting there, staring at him. A little unnerved, he'd tried to calmly ask her what she was doing.

She'd announced- with a slightly stoned-looking smile on her face- that, "A person's true nature comes out when they're in a deep sleep."

Gojyo had gotten out of _there_ as quickly as possible.

And now he found himself remembering the woman's words, and comparing them to the few moments worth of memories that he had of Sanzo's sleeping face.

When he was awake, the blonde man was almost like a spitting cobra: deadly and venom-spraying, yet also an oddly graceful and beautiful creature.

When he was asleep, though, Sanzo was…

He was…

…Gojyo had no idea how to describe a dead-to-the-world Sanzo. But he knew that it certainly kept his mean, merciless side balanced.

Suddenly, the redhead burst out laughing, though it soon dissolved into a painful, hacking cough. Never mind having the doctor up his dosage of painkillers: he should definitely look into having her _lower_ it.

What was all this sentimental shit he was suddenly coming up with? Sanzo was an evil bastard, and he probably only looked so relaxed while asleep because he was dreaming about burning down orphanages.

The corner of Gojyo's mouth lifted up, the closest he could come to a proper smile without ripping his lip apart. He wasn't entirely sure what his face looked like at the moment, because he wasn't game to face a mirror, but he could feel butterfly tape and bruises all over the area.

And, at one point, he'd discovered a _massive_ band-aid type deal on the back of his head…he was fairly certain that he was missing a bit of hair, thanks to _that_ one.

Gojyo's half-assed smile disappeared. At least _last _time, Hazel had stayed away from the face…even if that was just because Banri had forced his hand. This time, though, his features felt pretty much fucked.

Even if there was nothing too permanent, the bruises and cuts wouldn't just disappear overnight. Every time he looked in a mirror, he was going to see Hazel's handiwork staring back at him…and Gojyo _liked_ looking in mirrors. Mostly.

Hopefully, this time it wouldn't be as bad as the two years, at _least_, it had taken him to get over seeing his mother's face whenever he caught sight of the scars running parallel across his cheek.

Her glazed-over eyes as she struck out with the knife…her tackily painted lips curled up in a vicious snarl…

The horrible cracking sound as her skull collapsed.

Gojyo shivered a little. He hated thinking about that day, and yet…he just couldn't stop.

"Are you cold, Gojyo?" A polite, quiet voice nearly made the redhead sit up in shock- until he recalled Sanzo's insistence that he stay on his back.

"Hakkai? Is that you?"

Soft footsteps, and then: "Good afternoon. You're looking better today, I must say. But I saw you shivering; are you cold?"

Relief suddenly flooded Gojyo's body. _He_ might not have been able to get up and stop Sanzo…but Hakkai probably could.

"Shit, Hakkai, I need another favour." Gojyo awkwardly lifted his neck, trying to get a good look at the brunette. Hakkai obviously noticed his discomfort, coming to stand by the side of the bed.

"I can certainly try. What do you need done?"

Taking a deep breath, Gojyo tried to keep it short and sweet. "I don't know why, but Sanzo's gone after the guy who did…_this_."

He vaguely gestured to himself with his good hand, and Hakkai's eyes widened behind his glasses. "You actually _told_ him who assaulted you? Oh, _Gojyo…_"

For a split second, Gojyo felt like he was being reprimanded by Jien over something idiotic that he'd done. It passed quickly, though, and he returned to the main point.

"No, I never told him, but I don't know how long it's gonna take until he finds out who it was. You've gotta find him before he gets his ass killed! The guy's a total motherfucking psycho!" Gojyo heard his voice getting a little higher in pitch, but he couldn't help it.

Goddammit, he was _worried_.

Hakkai held his hands out, obviously trying for a calming attitude. It didn't work.

"Gojyo, Sanzo can handle himself. I'm sure you've noticed that he's actually quite strong."

"You don't understand, Hakkai. He's going after Hazel Grosse!"

The brunette visibly stiffened, his eyes going wide enough to look almost comical. "_What?_ Oh, dear…I can assure you that Sanzo will probably be fine, but if _anyone_- even a civilian- gets in his way…they're going to die."

The feeling of utter uselessness reappeared, and Gojyo's good hand rubbed over his eyes. "I don't give a shit what happens to Hazel, but _please_, Hakkai…don't let Sanzo do anything stupid."

"Of course, Gojyo." Hakkai flashed a smile in the redhead's direction, but it was tight and didn't reach his eyes. The brunette turned on his heel and swiftly walked away, immediately leaving the room in silence. Sinking back into the uncomfortable mattress, Gojyo couldn't stop the fingers of his right hand from drumming quickly against the bed.

He had no idea if Hakkai could find Sanzo at all, but having him out there looking was better than nothing…right?

Gojyo knew that Sanzo was going to be furious when he found out that the redhead had sent Hakkai after him. But he'd deal with _that_ when he knew if the man was still alive.

* * *

Sanzo slammed open the back alley door of some pretentious 'Gentleman's Club', lock-picking tool promptly returning to the pocket of his worn jeans. In the few minutes that he'd spared at home before driving off to await his source's call closer to the city, he'd changed out of his suit into an outfit that allowed for more movement.

It was hard to execute a decent high kick in dress pants, after all. Not to mention the bloodstains…

An unlucky minion who came out of a door just feet ahead of Sanzo, presumably alerted by the sound of the outer door crashing into the wall, found himself face-down on the floor after his skull left a rather nice dent in the hallway's plaster.

He wasn't dead; just unconscious. Sanzo didn't feel the need to kill anyone just yet.

As it was still mid-afternoon, the club wasn't well-guarded; the place wasn't actually _open_ yet. But Sanzo's source assured him that Zakuro was in an office behind the main club, dealing with some irrelevant issue about uncooperative strippers or the like.

Sanzo wasn't going to be happy if it turned out that the pimp wasn't here. As it was, it had taken over two hours for the information to come to him in the first place.

Due to the time, the blonde's walk to the main office was uninterrupted. He soon came to a fairly uninteresting door, with only one defining feature to tell him that this was the office he wanted: the tall, suited-up man standing with his arms crossed before it.

Feeling typically arrogant, Sanzo walked directly up at the man, unconcerned by the height difference of several inches and weight difference of a hundred pounds or so.

"Let me through."

The man looked down, one eyebrow raised and an amused smirk on his face. "I don't think so. Move along before you get hurt, pretty boy."

Sanzo's eye twitched at the insulting nickname. This one was going to pay for underestimating him.

"One last chance. I want to see your boss."

This time, the guard laughed. "What are you going to do about it? Use your _womanly_ charms on me?"

The steadily-boiling rage that had been building up inside Sanzo for the better part of the day suddenly overflowed, and he saw _red_.

"Son of a whoring _bitch,_" he hissed, hand sliding into his waistband to grab the revolver tucked there. The guard saw his movement and reached for his own gun, but Sanzo was faster.

The guard's hands immediately came back into the open, the barrel of Sanzo's gun in his face enough to bring about obedience.

"Let me the fuck inside."

The taller man's eyes were riveted on the gun, but he made no move to step out of the way. Sanzo let out a sound of disgust and, taking advantage of the fact that the guard's attention was elsewhere, sharply kicked the man in the groin.

With an odd groaning noise, the goon fell to his knees, keeling over sideways once he hit the ground. Sanzo relaxed his gun arm, but didn't put the weapon away as he placed a second kick, this time to the man's temple.

Now that the obstacles between him and Zakuro were removed, Sanzo made to open the door. Before he could get to it, though, the wood swung open.

"What the fuck is going on out here? I thought I told you to keep the noise down, because I'm dealing with _important fucking business!"_

Sanzo had to resist the urge to pinch the bridge of his noise. The pimp just couldn't yell like a normal person, could he? No, he had to make his voice as dramatic as possible, posing in the doorway like some sort of retarded fashion model.

The utter ridiculousness of the man made some of Sanzo's anger taper off into frustration, but he pointed his revolver directly at Zakuro nevertheless.

The weedy little pimp made a bizarre squeaking noise, and he attempted to close the door again. Taking a single step forward, Sanzo grabbed the edge of it and prevented that from happening.

"I have a _question_ for you. Answer properly and you just might live."

Zakuro opened his mouth as if to make a snide comment, but he froze when he caught sight of the guard slumped unconscious on the floor. "C-…come in then."

Nodding slightly, as if to say 'that's right', Sanzo pushed past the idiot pimp before lowering his gun to point towards the floor. He would be able to see if Zakuro went for a weapon, and he had found that people often gave better answers when _not_ faced with imminent death.

"What would you like to know fr-…"

"Who the _fuck_ beat Gojyo half to death?" Sanzo couldn't stand listening to Zakuro any further. The man's voice alone almost gave him a migraine, and he'd barely even heard it.

Zakuro's face twisted with confusion, and he tilted his head to the side. "…The _whore_? Why do you care about what happened to one of my boys?"

"I have my reasons." Sanzo wasn't about to explain himself to the idiot in front of him. Zakuro's eyes narrowed, and he took a step forward.

"Dokugakuji isn't getting my biggest seller. Don't think that getting rid of his debt will take away my hold on him."

Zakuro's movement made it easy for Sanzo to reach out and grab the pimp by the front of his ugly shirt. Pulling the man towards him, he placed the end of his revolver against Zakuro's throat.

"_Debt?_ Explain."

The pimp audibly swallowed, and he raised his hands in submission. "Kappa owes money…a _lot_ of money. He wasn't working enough to pay it back properly, and…"

Sanzo used his hold to throw the man to the floor, and he loomed over the cowering figure. Zakuro _talked_ a big game, but when it came to _action…_

"Who? Who did he borrow it off, and who took him?"

The pimp opened his mouth, but immediately shut it again. He shook his head a little and Sanzo growled. Kicking the man in the side, he thumbed back the hammer on his revolver and pointed it directly at Zakuro's heart.

"Fucking answer me, or I'll fuck you up."

"It's…it was Hazel…Hazel Grosse."

Sanzo thought he'd been angry before.

Now, he was positively _furious_.

"_**I'll fucking kill him**__!"_

Zakuro cowered further for a moment, but then he burst out laughing. "This isn't _business_, is it! You've fallen for a _whore!_"

Snarling, Sanzo stopped in his tracks from where he'd started walking back to the door. "_Never_ in a million fucking _years!"_

Whipping around, he blindly fired off a bullet. He didn't stop to see if and where it connected, taking satisfaction from the pained scream he heard.

Hazel Grosse…Gojyo owed that loanshark _money_? The redhead _had_ lied to him: he'd said that Hazel was just a customer. But for the moment, that wasn't his main concern.

Right now, he was going to find Grosse and shoot him down like the dog he was.

Sanzo stormed back towards his car, mind running through all the places that the loanshark could possibly be. He didn't have the time or the patience to wait for his source to find the information for him; he'd visit them all if he had to.

"What the _fuck…?"_ Swinging around a corner, Sanzo's fists clenched when he noticed that the hood of his car was open, and some filthy punk seemed to be messing around with the engine.

Drawing his gun again, Sanzo ran towards the vehicle. "The _fuck_ are you doing, asshole? Don't touch my c-…"

The blonde's tirade ran off when the figure turned and straightened up, allowing him to see the man's face.

"What the fuck are you playing at, Hakkai? Get the Hell away from my car!"

Hakkai simply stood there, a pleasant smile on his face. "Well, fancy seeing you here, Sanzo. If you wouldn't mind, could you please lower your weapon?"

"No," Sanzo snarled. The man's usual polite manner infuriated him even further. "What the fuck did you do to my engine?"

Hakkai looked pointedly at the gun, but Sanzo made no move to put it away. The brunette sighed. "If you don't want to be arrested, you might want to put that away. Your engine is currently fine; I haven't done a thing yet."

A slight bit of reason made it through the haze of Sanzo's mind, and he reluctantly tucked the revolver away again. "What are you doing, Hakkai?"

"I'm here to stop you from doing something immensely ridiculous."

"Killing Grosse isn't ridiculous! It's fucking community service- the man's a plague!" Sanzo felt no weaker for being divested of his weapon, and he stepped right up to Hakkai. The brunette's façade didn't change at all.

"I certainly agree, but this isn't the right way to go about it."

"Yes, it _is!"_ Sanzo felt the seconds passing, seconds that he could have used to be getting closer to Hazel. He wasn't far away from simply shooting Hakkai and stepping around his corpse.

"Gojyo is terrified that you're going in with a clouded head, and that you will get yourself killed. Besides, don't you believe that he should be given the chance to gain his _own_ vengeance?"

Sanzo paused for a moment, but Hakkai's words did little to change his mind. "No! The idiot deserved what happened to him; he borrowed _money_ from that fucker, Hakkai. I've put up with a _lot_ from Hazel, and it's time for _my_ revenge."

Hakkai swiftly moved forward, grabbing Sanzo by the shoulders. The blonde was too shocked at his presumptuousness to react, and Hakkai took the opportunity to speak.

"Hazel is out of state right now. He won't be back until tomorrow, so you won't be able to do a thing yet. I think that you should go and see Gojyo, to show him that you're still alive."

The blonde finally moved to take Hakkai's hands from his shoulders, and he stepped back. "You're lying. Just like he did."

"No. I'm not lying." Sanzo wasn't sure if the brunette actually_ was_ lying or not; the man's poker face was impeccable. After a minute of silence, Sanzo found no beneficial reason for Hakkai to have lied in the first place.

"Fine. I'll go see that whoring bastard; I need to rip him a new one for fucking lying to me. And then I'm slaughtering Hazel for everything that he's ever done to me."

Moving forward to slam the hood of his car shut, Sanzo paused only when he was about to sit in the driver's seat. "Are you coming, asshole, or are you staying?"

Hakkai's smile was somewhat unnerving this time, with a harsh smugness behind it as he slipped in beside the blonde. Sanzo gritted his teeth; as much as he didn't want to listen to Hakkai, he knew the man had a point.

If Hazel wasn't around, then there was nothing he could currently do. He might as well use the time to…_straighten things out_ with the redhead.

It wasn't like the whore could get away from Sanzo's wrath in his current state.


	26. Chapter 26: I Rage

Gojyo knew he should be listening to the nurse in a chair next to him, because she was attempting to tell him about the surgery he'd be going in for tomorrow, but he was finding it much more amusing to watch the way she blushed every time he made the little half-smile.

Hell, even a severe beating couldn't kill natural charm. _That_ was good to know.

This was actually the first time he'd seen a nurse since he'd woken up; he assumed that because he was here under somewhat shady circumstances, Professor Hwang was probably trying to limit 'outside exposure' to him.

It was annoying, because although he'd managed to take his mind off the fact that Sanzo was running rampant somewhere, _that_ had been immediately replaced by the desire for a cigarette.

When he had someone to talk to- or mess with, in this case- the nicotine craving loosened its hold a little. But hardly anyone came by his room, and so most of the time he was left alone with just his thoughts for company…and for the past hour or so, most of those thoughts had revolved around smoking.

"So we'll be taking you in for surgery tomorrow morning. The doctor says that your hand should be almost normal- isn't that good!" The nurse was young, pretty, and infinitely cheery. Gojyo vaguely wondered if it should be a crime for someone to be so goddamned happy, in a hospital of all places…

Then he realised she was waiting for some kind of answer. "Hmm? Oh, definitely. It sucks to be a lefty right now."

Just for the Hell of it, he made another little smirk. Right on cue, her cheeks flamed up all over again. Shit, wasn't she ever going to wise up to the little game he was playing? Oh, well, at least it was something to do…

The nurse opened her mouth to speak again, but all that came out was a high-pitched little squeal when the door to Gojyo's room suddenly slammed open.

Although he couldn't see who it was with his field of vision still incredibly limited, Gojyo thought that he had a pretty good idea just _who_ would make such a goddamn racket.

"Out." The word was low, snapped, and presumably directed at the nurse.

It was also unmistakeably Sanzo.

The colour flooded _away_ from the nurse's face, and she began to stammer out some sort of response; but she soon shut up when footsteps approached.

"Get _out!_" Sanzo roared, and the young woman nearly tripped over her feet in her haste to get away from Gojyo's bedside.

"Close that door." The violence was gone from Sanzo's voice with that last line, but rather than reassuring Gojyo that he was going to live, the sudden change only made him _more_ nervous as the nurse's hurried footsteps were muted by the door shutting.

It was entirely possible that Sanzo had reached a state of pure rage, and he'd gone _past_ it. He was now a little too…_calm_.

Gojyo went to bite his lip, only just stopping himself before he screwed up his mouth yet _again_. Quite frankly, he was fucked; and he knew it.

The only sounds in the room were the gentle beeping of some machine and Sanzo's slow footsteps; Gojyo was so utterly tense by the time that Sanzo took the nurse's vacated seat that he was ready to jump out of bed and run away, injuries be damned.

It was fucking horrible, the way that Sanzo calmly sat himself down, looking across at Gojyo with a truly neutral expression on his face. He didn't say a thing, and Gojyo wasn't game to break the silence; he was worried that noise would pull Sanzo out of this insanely peaceful calm he seemed to have reached.

When Sanzo leaned forward and reached out his arm, Gojyo couldn't help it. He flinched.

Sanzo's mouth twitched a little, but his blank face was back in full force before Gojyo could tell if he was amused or disgusted. The outstretched hand landed in Gojyo's hair, and although Gojyo's tensed body prepared itself for painful pressure, the fingers merely began to gently run through his locks. Sanzo even somehow managed to avoid all the tangles that were there, meaning that Gojyo felt no pain whatsoever.

Instead, Gojyo found himself subconsciously relaxing. He knew that it was a bad idea to lose himself in the touch, because the blonde was an insane asshole who surely had something bad cooked up; but he just couldn't help it. After getting beaten up so much, a non-painful…well, _caress_ was just too much.

When Sanzo's hand reached the ends of Gojyo's hair and lifted away, the redhead finally realised that he'd been holding his breath. Focusing on keeping a steady flow of air, he barely noticed when Sanzo's hand rested once again just by his forehead…

…But he _certainly_ noticed when Sanzo's hand suddenly tightened, pulling harshly on his hair right near his scalp, where it would- and _did_- hurt the most.

Letting out a pained yelp, Gojyo tried to use his right arm- the closest one- to detach Sanzo's grip, but the man used his free arm to lock the tanned limb against the bed, fingers biting painfully into Gojyo's forearm.

"S-Sanzo…" Gojyo gasped, the pressure of Sanzo's hands making some of his other wounds begin to ache again. Finally looking up into the blonde's face, Gojyo saw that the neutral expression was gone; and in its place was an enraged scowl, Sanzo's eyes darkening with anger to the point where they were closer to black than purple.

"I can ex-…_ah!_" Gojyo groaned in pain when both of Sanzo's hands tightened their grip.

"Shut up! You _lied _to me. What, you didn't think I'd find out? Are you that _stupid?_" Sanzo wasn't yelling, probably because he didn't want to bring too much attention to himself. Instead, his voice was a furious hiss, and Gojyo suddenly saw the blonde as a dangerous cobra once more.

He'd always known that having Sanzo around was like flirting with death…but it had never really hit home until just now.

"I…I di-…"

"Hazel Grosse. Hazel motherfucking _Grosse_? Are you a fucking _idiot?_ Why the fuck would you _borrow_ from that sick son of a bitch?"

Gojyo didn't even bother to try answering that one. He figured he'd just get cut off again, and he was already sick of it. He was a fucking _born_ fighter, and yet here he was, stuck in a hospital bed while Sanzo did whatever the Hell he wanted.

And sadly, Sanzo's idea of 'do whatever you want to me' differed _greatly _from Gojyo's.

Another sharp pull on Gojyo's hair made him gasp, and he realised that this time, Sanzo actually _did_ want a response. Breathing harshly, he tried to think past the throbbing pain in his head.

"I…I needed money to leave the country, get some fake papers."

Sanzo's eyes widened as he realised the implication of that, and he leaned in closer still. "You _deserved_ this for trying to sneak out on a loan. I would've killed you on the spot."

Swallowing hard, Gojyo's good- and restrained- hand twisted into the sheets. It was the only way he could stop from trembling.

"Hazel…he nearly did. Only Banri stopped him…because I'm valuable."

Sanzo paused, and his hands relaxed infinitesimally. After a second, though, they tightened yet again. "_Banri_? How long ago was this?"

Wincing, Gojyo tried to make it through a full sentence without stuttering or his voice breaking. "It was almost two years ago."

Releasing his hold on Gojyo, Sanzo practically jumped out of his chair. Pacing up and down the room, he ran a hand through his hair before whirling around on Gojyo, standing once more by the side of the bed. "Two fucking _years?_ And he's _still _got you under his thumb? How fucking much did you try to take from him?"

His voice was no longer a hiss, getting louder and angrier with every word as it was.

"He and…and Banri made a deal to make it basically unpayable…they didn't want me to leave and take away all the money they make off me…"

Sanzo walked away, muttering something under his breath that Gojyo couldn't hear. The redhead couldn't help but wonder if Sanzo had actually gone insane this time; he was certainly _acting_ that way.

Suddenly, Sanzo came to a complete halt. Without turning around, his growling voice reached a volume that Gojyo could actually hear. "Hazel was never a client of yours, was he."

The tone Sanzo spoke with was foreboding, and Gojyo knew that he was fucked either way he answered. He could lie again, or he could admit to having lied in the first place. Neither would have very favourable results…it all came down to which would hurt less.

When Gojyo didn't speak for several seconds, Sanzo was almost instantly at his bedside. "You _lied_, didn't you? _Answer me!"_

"I…but…" Gojyo didn't get much further before the heel of Sanzo's hand came down on his ribs, sending excruciating pain all through his torso.

This time, Gojyo let out a pained scream that almost drowned out the sound of the door swinging open again.

"Sanzo! That's enough!" Gojyo knew he should recognise that voice, but all he could focus on was the way it felt like his lungs were collapsing. He heard Sanzo snarl as the man disappeared from his blurred vision, but he couldn't put a how or a why to that situation as he collapsed against the mattress, his eyes closing.

"I'm not done here!" That was definitely Sanzo, but the voice seemed to be getting further away.

"Yes, you are. You're going to kill him if you go any further, Sanzo." That voice seemed so familiar…but the angry tone was throwing out Gojyo's memory. He just couldn't place it.

The two voices continued on, getting further and further away until Gojyo could no longer hear anything. Not too long after they'd completely disappeared, the redhead heard heavy footsteps run into the room. Oh, God, if this was Sanzo coming back…

"The nurse told me that your…_friend_ kicked her out, and then an intern heard you scream. Are you okay, Gojyo?"

…That was definitely Professor Hwang. Gojyo let out a sigh of relief; Sanzo wasn't coming back. Not that he could blame the blonde for what he'd done…this whole mess was Gojyo's fault. Sanzo had been right when he'd said that Gojyo deserved it…all of it.

"Gojyo? Did he hurt you?" The doctor sounded so genuinely concerned that Gojyo _almost _told her the truth. But then he remembered everything he owed Sanzo: for the lies, for getting the blonde involved in this shit, even for picking him up when he was drunk and stopping him from committing suicide.

The doctor would call the cops; Gojyo couldn't let that happen.

"I'm fine. He didn't hurt me." Gojyo was proud of the way his voice didn't shake once, even if his breath was coming a little faster than usual.

"Don't protect him. Your heart rate's up, you're panting, and your skin is flushed. He _did_ something to you, didn't he."

The doctor's innocent words gave Gojyo a not-so-innocent idea. Trying for the cheekiest expression he could manage without hurting his face, he stared right into the woman's eyes and drawled seductively.

"I said he didn't hurt me. I never said he didn't do anything to me." Gojyo winked slowly, making sure that the doctor fully understood the false implications.

There were a few moments of confusion before the doctor's eyes widened, her jaw dropping a little as she received the unspoken message. Her cheeks flushing, she didn't say another word as she set about checking Gojyo over, presumably putting any new bruises down to the sex she thought Gojyo had just experienced.

The redhead closed his eyes again, falling into his thoughts as the doctor moved around, lifting his arms, prodding lightly at his chest, checking the slight swelling at his knee.

He'd truly deserved what Sanzo had done. There was no denying that.

But…Sanzo might not forgive him for this. And that, for some ungodly masochistic reason, hurt more than his throbbing ribs and head.

* * *

Hakkai was going to die for this, Sanzo decided as he was escorted from the hospital with his arm twisted painfully behind him. He didn't know what had possessed him to bring the man with him, but the bastard was _dead_ now.

Bursting into the room like that, and interrupting him when he'd been in the middle of an interrogation…

As soon as the pair reached the outside of the hospital, Sanzo found himself being released. Turning to face Hakkai, he began to reach for his gun. He'd have to make it a killing shot; there were too many people around who could save him from a non-lethal bullet.

A sharp slap across his face stopped him in his tracks.

"What _was_ that, Sanzo? Why were you going after a man who had no chance to defend himself?"

Sanzo had never heard so much _anger_ in Hakkai's voice, and he knew that it would be infinitely dangerous for him to pull his revolver right now. Crossing his arms over his chest, Sanzo refused to be intimidated.

"He _lied_ to me. He looked me in the eye and lied, while we were in _bed_." Oops. He hadn't meant to let that last bit slip…but his mouth was working faster than his brain. Thankfully, Hakkai ignored it.

"Did he lie about Hazel? What would you have done if he'd told you the truth?"

Sanzo only took a second to think, snapping his answer out. "I would've kicked his idiotic fucking ass."

Hakkai had the _nerve_ to look exasperated at that, and Sanzo barely resisted the urge to punch him in the face. The only reason he _did_ resist was because he'd never seen Hakkai go this long without smiling, or at least pretending to. It was a little unnerving.

"Exactly! Sanzo, Gojyo probably has incredible survival instincts. By lying, he actually helped you _both_, because you would have done something utterly _stupid!_"

Throwing his hands in the air from frustration, Sanzo turned to walk towards his car. "_This_ is why I never trust anyone. All they do is fuck you around."

"So…you trust Gojyo, then?" Hakkai's voice was back to its usual polite, unassuming tone. It practically raised Sanzo's hackles.

"_No_. And what of it if I did?"

There was nothing but silence from behind him, and Sanzo walked right up to his car. Just as he was getting in, though, Hakkai's raised voice floated over to him.

"Don't delude yourself, Sanzo. You're not angry at Gojyo; you're angry at Hazel. You shouldn't take this out on the wrong man just because you're _confused_."

Sanzo's head snapped around to see Hakkai's back, the man walking away to enter the hospital once again. The blonde had half a mind to go in there and _show_ Hakkai just how wrong he was, but the adrenaline rush of anger was beginning to wear off. He'd barely slept in days; exhaustion was taking its toll.

If he was going to kill Hazel tomorrow, he needed to be at the top of his game.

Besides, there was no reason for him to stay at the hospital any longer.

* * *

Gojyo was just contemplating the idea of trying to get some sleep when a quiet knock sounded at the door.

"Come…in?" He called uncertainly. No one _knocked_ on his door; it seemed like everyone just wandered in and out as they chose. The wood creaked, and Gojyo heard the visitor approach his bed.

"I'm so sorry about all of this, Gojyo." Hakkai appeared in Gojyo's view, his head bowed slightly as if remorseful.

Red eyebrows jumped up: _that_ was the voice he'd heard earlier. Except…there had been so much anger in it…it had been almost nothing like the quiet tone he was hearing now.

"Don't worry, Hakkai. This was all my fault."

Hakkai shook his head, his brunette hair slightly covering his expression. "No. I was out the front the whole time, but I was so busy trying to reassure the nurse of her safety that…that I let Sanzo get carried away."

Gojyo nearly laughed at that one. From what he'd seen, no one _let_ Sanzo do anything. "I've never seen that bastard so determined. If you'd tried to stop him any earlier, he probably would have shot you and then gone about his business with me."

Hakkai sighed, and seemed to let the subject drop. "I lied and told him that Hazel was out of state, to stop him from going in too recklessly. Hazel will be dead by tomorrow evening, so if you want me to stop Sanzo, you need to say so now."

"Haven't we already realised that lying to Sanzo is a bad idea?"

"Not if it's me. He hides it well, but I think he's actually the slightest bit afraid of me. I'm alive after literally pushing him from the hospital, after all."

"I don't care if Sanzo goes after Hazel. He's never going to want to talk to me again, anyway." Letting out a slight sigh, Gojyo rubbed at his temple with his good hand. This headache just wasn't pissing off.

"Wait until Hazel is gone. Give Sanzo a few days, _then_ see how he's acting. I think you underestimate just how much Sanzo hates that man."

Gojyo frowned in confusion at Hakkai. Did the man _have_ to speak in riddles?

"Once again, Gojyo, I'm sorry for everything. I have to go now, but just wait. Sanzo will be fine; I assure you."

"Um…okay, I guess. See you later, then." Closing his eyes again, Gojyo tried to ignore the pain running through his head and chest. What the Hell was Hakkai on about? Sanzo was _obviously_ furious with him and that wasn't just going to change, whether Hazel was alive or not.

But, then again…Sanzo was about to wipe out Gojyo's debt to the loanshark. It was just another thing that Gojyo was going to owe him for…and all he could feel was relief.

Sanzo might have hurt him a little, but…he owed his _life_ to the man. More than once. Gojyo had no idea how he was ever going to repay _that_ particular debt…but he knew he'd find a way, somehow.


	27. Chapter 27: I Prepare

*******The world did _not_ want me to write this chapter. First, I got the weirdest urge to write a 17,000 word DMC Dante/Nero, which took a few days; then, just as I was going to start typing this chapter, my nose started to pour blood like a tap for thirty minutes, with no good reason. And, on top of that, then my grandparents needed tech support. Explaining everything four times takes a while, haha! But I've finally got some time to myself to write this chapter. Here goes.*******

* * *

Sanzo woke the next morning with a smile on his face; but the expression wasn't remotely joyous, or amused, or even sardonic.

It was predatory, pure and simple. The 'smile' could barely even be considered that, being more like a baring of teeth than anything else. Hazel Grosse was going to die by Sanzo's hand, and it just might be the blonde man's greatest achievement to date.

Lazily stretching his arms above his head, Sanzo sat up and wondered which of his suits was best for hiding bloodstains. His deliberations were interrupted, though, by the sound of his cell phone ringing. An eyebrow quirking upwards, he reached towards the source of the noise.

A quick look at the screen told him it was Doku. Which was strange, really: he'd expected a little more time off. Oh well, he'd just tell the man to go fuck himself and be done with it.

"Hello?" In an unusually playful mood, Sanzo knew that answering the call like a _normal_ person would completely throw Doku off track.

And it did.

"Uhh…Is this Sanzo? Or a parasitic bug that's completely overtaken its host?"

"Don't be a fucking idiot, Dokugakuji." For once, the blonde didn't have rage flaring in his voice; rather, his tone was vaguely amused. Amazing how the thought of committing a murder could put him in such a good frame of mind.

"Well…you're getting closer, but your Sanzo impersonation still isn't great. You might want to work on it a bit more." Doku still sounded confused as Hell. It was as if he'd never heard Sanzo in a good mood before…

Upon further reflection, the blonde decided that his boss probably _hadn't. _It wasn't very often that Sanzo didn't want to obliterate everyone around him; but today, he had all his anger directed at one target.

That left a lot of room for other emotions to come slipping through.

"Do you have a point, or am I going to spend this entire conversation trying to convince you that I truly _am_ me? Because if that's so, I'm hanging up now."

"No, no; I do have a point. I need you to come back to work today. I have a little _job_ for you." Doku's voice immediately lost its distracted edge, turning into the tone he used whenever he wanted something truly serious done.

Too bad for him, Sanzo was already planning to use the day for taking care of his own serious issue.

"No." The response was matter-of-fact, and _certainly_ not up for discussion. There was no chance in Hell that the blonde would be going to work today.

"…_What?"_ His boss' voice was beginning to sound a lot like it had back in Doku's car, when he'd finally snapped about Sanzo's attitude. The man would want an explanation; he wasn't going to get one.

Sanzo wasn't about to unleash the shitstorm that would surely come down on him if Doku knew what he was planning. His boss had been fine with a broken finger; murder was a little different.

"You heard me. I have shit to do today."

"Sanzo, I've already _warned…_"

"I won't be of any help to you until I've done this." It was true. Sanzo knew that he'd be just as distracted as he had been earlier if his revenge was delayed, now that he was _so close_ to making up for all the not-so-subtle innuendo and come-ons, the stupid comments and, most of all, the _touching_.

If there was one rule for living- relatively- peacefully with Sanzo, it was _don't touch Sanzo._

Hazel seemed to take great joy in breaking that rule at every given opportunity.

'_And so does Gojyo; but where's his death warrant?'_

Sanzo paused- the redhead _did_ take a lot of liberties, but…it was almost as if he was _allowed _to. Then again, Gojyo had never tried to touch Sanzo's face in public. Maybe _that _was why he still had hands- albeit a slightly mangled left one- attached to his wrists.

Sanzo had momentarily forgotten about the conversation he was having with his boss; a loud throat-clearing noise brought him back into his right mind.

"Kid, does this have anything to do with your…_friend_ in the hospital?"

Sanzo's first thought was that he didn't like the way Doku had paused before saying 'friend'. The man thought he knew more than he really did; he didn't understand a _single_ thing about the acquaintanceship between the two men. The blonde should deny it.

His second thought, however, revolved around the way he could use Dokugakuji's limited knowledge to his advantage, and get the man off his back again.

"Maybe." Sanzo knew that his boss would fill in some gaps by himself, and save the blonde the time of making up a lie. He just wouldn't set the man straight when he inevitably misread Sanzo's motives.

"…Are you actually going to stick up for someone's _honour_? Holy shit, Sanzo, this guy's been _good_ for you!" Doku's obvious amusement made the blonde sneer. That wasn't it at all; everything he did had a purely selfish reason behind it, and so he was doing this for himself.

Hazel was a cancer to everyone, but he was particularly malignant to Sanzo. It just so happened that Gojyo's thoroughly deserved little 'accident' provided an excellent opportunity for Hazel's untimely death.

'Untimely' in the sense that it hadn't come soon enough, of course.

Deciding to play along with Doku's misconceptions, Sanzo smirked menacingly into the phone. "_Someone_ put Gojyo into the hospital. I'm going to make sure they don't try it again."

Lowering the phone, the blonde could still faintly hear Doku's voice. "Put _who_? Sanzo, wai-…"

Disconnecting the call, Sanzo threw his phone onto the bed next to him and stood, rolling his shoulders back to dissolve built-up muscle tension. He needed to go into this in the best possible form; he was under no illusions that Hazel _wasn't_ a dangerous piece of shit.

But Sanzo knew his weakness. And as _distasteful_ as exploiting that weakness was going to be, he had to do it.

If he went in with guns blazing, he would die. He didn't particularly feel like dying today.

However, he had a plan. And if everything went according to that plan, he would have both Hazel _and_ Gat at a severe disadvantage.

In all truth, it was Gat that Sanzo was most wary of. The man was a near-perfect shot, and his sheer size was enough to make a front-on assault unadvisable. If the blonde played his cards right, though, he thought that he could have the bodyguard out of the way without any conflict whatsoever.

Indirect methods of attack weren't Sanzo's usual strategy; but when the situation called for it, sometimes he was forced to improvise. He had no intentions of sacrificing himself to take Hazel out, as that would be the epitome of stupidity.

Besides, the blonde was almost looking forward to living in a world without that narcissistic, obnoxious, _arrogant_ little waste of skin and blood.

The cell phone rang again, but Sanzo ignored it. He knew it would just be Dokugakuji trying to finish whatever he'd been saying before he was cut off, and Sanzo had no interest in continuing the interrogation that his boss was trying to force upon him.

He had a loanshark to kill.

Nothing else mattered.

* * *

Almost an hour later, Sanzo was loading his person with enough ammo to ensure that, when he was finished, there would be little more left of Hazel than a pile of gore.

Yes, it was excessive; but subtlety had never been Sanzo's strong point.

Making sure that the cylinder of his revolver was also fully loaded, the blonde tucked the weapon into the custom pocket of his suit jacket. He would probably have preferred to do this in casual clothing, but there was always a chance that a sudden change of wardrobe would raise Hazel's suspicions.

The last thing he wanted to do was scare Hazel off, and have to settle for shooting the prick in the back of the head.

A sharp knock sounded at the front door, and Sanzo's head snapped up. '_Who the Hell…'_

"Sanzo! Would you mind opening this door, please?"

Oh, fuck. Hakkai.

He'd probably come to talk Sanzo out of what he was planning; it would take a lot more than a few _words_ to do that. Shrugging his shoulders, Sanzo went back to checking his weaponry and ignored the door.

He really should've known better: less than a minute later, the tell-tale sounds of a lock being picked floated through the apartment.

Growling in irritation, his decent mood finally deflated, Sanzo stormed over and waited for Hakkai to finish with the lock.

When the door swung open Hakkai was standing there with his usual blank smile, not moving despite the fact that he was faced by the waiting blonde, his arms crossed and expression screaming murder.

"Good morning, Sanzo. And how are you, today?"

"Hn." The blonde just raised an eyebrow, waiting for Hakkai to explain himself. This was cutting into the time he _could_ be using to murder Hazel; the brunette needed to hurry the fuck up, because otherwise _he_ was going to end up with a few new holes, too.

"Good to hear. Well, I came to see you today about Hazel."

"And I suppose that you're going to try and stop me? Don't bother." Infinitely bored, Sanzo checked his watch. Was this going to take much longer? Mentally, he began recapping his strategy, trying once again to find any problematic areas.

"No, not at all. Rather, I want to help you."

Sanzo's eyes narrowed as he inspected Hakkai's expression, trying to glean why he wanted to help. The man had been butting in on his business an awful lot lately; it was irritating as fuck.

"Not a chance."

Hakkai's expression hardened ever so slightly, but his smile barely wavered. The man made no move to step inside the apartment, though, which Sanzo was pleased with.

"May I be so rude as to ask _why_, Sanzo?"

"I don't need help." Sanzo put his hand on the door, intending to close it in Hakkai's face. However, the surprisingly strong hand that gripped the wood's edge prevented him from doing so.

"You're going to die." It wasn't spoken pleadingly; it was purely a statement. Something that Hakkai seemed to think was a true fact.

"Once more, not a chance."

Finally, Hakkai's polite air dropped to be replaced by annoyance. His knuckles tightened around the door until they went white, and his mouth lost all trace of the generic smile he usually wore.

"Sanzo. You are a skilled person; quite possibly the most talented gunman I have ever met. But even _you_ can't face both Hazel Grosse and Gat without getting severely injured." Despite his words, Hakkai wasn't being complimentary. Once again, he seemed only to be repeating facts without opinion or assumption.

"Injured isn't dead, Hakkai. Get out of my way; we're done here."

"No, we're not. If you kill Hazel first, Gat will slaughter you. If you go for Gat first, Hazel will have ample time to escape." A hard shove from Hakkai sent the door back against the wall, Sanzo having to let go of the handle in order to save his fingers.

"Let me take care of Gat; I will not do a single thing to Hazel. I have no quarrel with that man."

Sanzo knew that he could trust Hakkai's word: if the man said he wouldn't touch Hazel, then he wouldn't. But that didn't immediately mean that he was going to accept the brunette's offer.

"Then why are you offering to take down Gat for me?"

There was a long pause, with Hakkai clearly thinking something though and Sanzo unwilling to make unnecessary conversation. The blonde had re-folded his arms across his chest, his posture indicating a man who wasn't willing to give even a single inch.

Although Hakkai's body language was nowhere near as aggressive, his demeanour matched Sanzo's.

"This has nothing to do with anything that the man may or may not have done to me, personally; nor does it have anything to do with you. Quite simply put, I'm doing this for Gojyo."

…Okay, that gave Sanzo pause. Hakkai barely even _knew_ Gojyo; why was he suddenly so hung up on the man?

"Why?" As per usual, the blonde expected his visitor to fill in the context of the question; and, also in a fairly typical fashion, Hakkai correctly interpreted the single word.

"He came to me after your…_altercation _with a client of his. He very nearly begged me to look for you when he thought you were going after Hazel the first time. And, on top of all that, he blames _himself_ for you hurting him yesterday. It's obvious that Gojyo…_thinks very highly_ of you, and if I was to let you die, then he would be positively shattered."

"He's just a _whore_, Hakkai. Who gives a shit what happens to him?" Sanzo was back to checking his watch, wondering if he could knock Hakkai unconscious before the man could counter. It didn't seem likely.

A disgusted sigh brought Sanzo's full attention back to the man standing before him. Hakkai was being awfully forward today…it wasn't often that he actually showed what he was feeling.

"If you have something to say, Hakkai, then _say _it."

"_You_ care what happens to him, and you know it. But I also happen to think that Gojyo is a very good person who has suffered an awful lot, so…I don't want to see someone else committing suicide when I could have prevented it."

Sanzo blinked rapidly. Had Hakkai just hinted something about his _past_? As far as anyone knew, the brunette had simply appeared out of thin air in Doku's office one day. To hear him saying something that wasn't already public knowledge was incredibly rare.

But, as Sanzo wasn't one to ask too many questions or show any level of interest, he let it go. Knowing that he wasn't going to win this battle, he threw his hands into the air from irritation and turned back into his apartment.

"Fine. You can take out the guard dog if it means so much to you. But we're leaving in ten minutes, so if you're not ready, fuck off and let me be."

"Certainly. Oh, and Sanzo?"

The blonde didn't turn back to Hakkai, his stride not faltering as he snapped out a quick, "What?"

"Thank you." It was genuine, not Hakkai's usual falsely obsequious tone. A normal person may have called it heart-warming; but not Sanzo.

"Tch."


	28. Chapter 28: I Begin

Sanzo leaned casually against the bonnet of his car, lighting up a cigarette and taking a long drag. Adrenaline was coursing through his body as he looked across the street at the ridiculously gaudy gates of Hazel's property, the thought of what he was about to do making his heart beat faster.

He was going to kill Hazel Grosse.

A soft tapping came from the car and Sanzo gave a disgusted sigh as he turned around, addressing his accomplice inside the vehicle. "What, Hakkai?"

"I hate to rush you, but the longer you stand out here, the higher the chances of being found out too early." As usual, the brunette sounded _far_ too cheery for his line of work, his voice coming through the half-lowered window.

"Who's running this whole operation?" Raising an eyebrow, Sanzo purposely blew a mouthful of smoke in at the other man. He knew that it pissed Hakkai off to no end whenever he did so- that was _exactly_ why he always did it.

Hakkai's voice tightened ever so slightly, and yet he still managed to sound polite as he answered without sarcasm, "Why, I believe that would be you, Sanzo."

"_Exactly_. So mind your own fucking business and just wait 'til you're needed."

As reluctant as he'd originally been to bring along his occasional work partner, Sanzo could admit to himself that it would be easier to have someone else deal with the loanshark's guard.

Gat was dangerous; but Hakkai was dangerous _and_ psychotic. It gave him an edge that very few men could obtain without completely losing their shit.

"As you wish." With that, the brunette rolled the window backup and left Sanzo in peace.

The blonde took a final pull on his Marlboro, glaring at the half-burnt stick before throwing it down and grinding it out with his heel. He rolled his head from side to side, feeling his neck crack as some of the tension in it dissipated.

Patting himself down one more time, checking for his revolver, ammunition and a back-up blade or two, Sanzo stood up perfectly straight and readied himself.

His initial plan was dependant on several factors; the most important of which being that he _didn't_ get searched at the front door. But, if he had Hazel pegged correctly, the man was too stupid to think about such a thing. Maybe he was more cautious for other visitors, but Sanzo was positive that the loanshark would trust _his_ word completely.

The man was an idiot, pure and simple; Sanzo was going to use that to his advantage.

Turning once more and giving a sharp tap on the car window, the blonde raised five fingers to Hakkai, reminding the man to wait five minutes before sneaking onto the property. He'd managed to quickly alter his strategy to accommodate a second person, and now it was actually tighter and more plausible than it had originally been.

If Sanzo hadn't already been completely assured of his victory, he _certainly_ was now. As much as he professed to dislike Hakkai, he believed that no one else would be as good for- nor keep as quiet about- this job.

And it was almost time.

Fighting down his anticipation, as well as his disgust at what he was going to do to gain entry to the main house, Sanzo strode across the street and opened the unmanned gates.

Hazel relied far too much on Gat; that made Sanzo's work infinitely more simple. The loanshark only employed extra guards for the nights, expecting any and all attacks on him to come whilst he was sleeping.

But Sanzo didn't play that way.

Stepping onto the Grosse estate, something he'd previously done only a few times and with _great_ reluctance, Sanzo glared disdainfully at the display of wealth all around him. What kind of a man needed a large fountain in his front yard, complete with a marble statue of himself at the centre? _'Such a fucking **narcissist**_…_'_

A suspiciously illegal immigrant-looking worker paused from where he was tending the garden to look at the unexpected visitor, only to hurry away when he caught sight of the venomous scowl being sent in his direction.

Sanzo knew that the man wouldn't report anything he saw or heard; doing so would just bring unwanted attention to himself. He'd be allowed to live.

The closer he got to the white mansion, the larger Sanzo's predatory smirk grew. He was actually going to do this- _finally_. Soon, Hazel would no longer be able to piss him off, or anyone else for that matter.

'_Ah, so you admit it; some of this __**is**__ for Gojyo.'_

The blonde had no interest in beginning yet another argument with himself, and so he merely ignored the smartassed little voice that seemed to exist only to infuriate the rest of him. He knew perfectly well that this was only for himself; he didn't have anything to prove, to his own mind or otherwise.

Slowing his stride as he stepped up to Hazel's front porch, Sanzo worked to turn his violent, rapacious smirk into something a little more…_seductive_.

The blonde cleared his throat, shifting his posture from outwardly aggressive to deceptively relaxed. Reaching out, he pressed firmly on the front door's buzzer and waited for an answer.

* * *

Despite Hakkai's reassurance, Gojyo couldn't help but _worry_.

It was a completely new sensation for him, and he wasn't even sure how to handle it. He'd _never_ cared about someone else's safety…not even Jien. To Gojyo's childish mind, his older brother had been invincible, almost a god-like figure that the redhead hadn't _needed_ to worry about.

But now, Gojyo knew _much _better than to think someone immortal. Even Sanzo, that stubborn, violent, dangerous and damn-near-_unbreakable_ bastard, couldn't survive a couple of bullets to the brain.

Even if Sanzo wasn't doing this for him in the slightest, Gojyo felt that, should the blonde man die, it would be his fault. The triggering factor in this had been his beating; it should have been _his_ responsibility to make sure that Sanzo lived.

But no. He was stuck in hospital, asking someone _else_ to look after the man he'd put through so much.

Even though Gojyo had been moved from Intensive Care to a regular room after his hand surgery earlier in the day, he would still be stuck here for quite a while. He'd only just gotten to the point where he could sit up, after all; even if Sanzo lived, there would be no way for Gojyo to thank him properly.

His entire body was ruined; he couldn't physically do the only thing that he'd ever been able to give Sanzo.

At this rate, the blonde wasn't going to keep hanging around much longer. He'd helped Gojyo time and time again, but what had Gojyo ever done for _him_?

Nothing. Absolutely fucking _nothing_, apart from a few rare occasions of pleasure. And that was out of the question now, for who knew how long.

No matter what Hakkai had said, Gojyo wasn't expecting Sanzo to come back to the hospital. The man had been so utterly _furious_ with him that the chances of forgiveness were ridiculously low. Even with a _normal_ person, that level of rage took a _long_ time to get over…and the blonde didn't seem to be the most forgiving man around.

Gojyo dug the palms of his hands into his eyes, letting out a low groan as his emotions began to get the best of him. He couldn't avoid the issue at all: Sanzo was potentially in danger, and Gojyo was _worried_. And, on top of that, he might just never see the blonde man again.

Gojyo didn't like the way that final thought made him _ache_.

He'd even _dreamt_ of Sanzo the previous night; a hot and heavy fantasy that had make him wake up hard. But he was sure that had something to do with the fact that he hadn't had sex in…shit, in _days._

He hadn't gone this long without since he was fourteen…which was both depressing and somewhat _sickening_. It was what Gojyo _did_, though; and even with Hazel- potentially- gone, he wouldn't easily escape it.

Sanzo would never want a whore for anything other than fucking; so Gojyo didn't know why he was so worked up over this whole situation. The blonde was done with him; he needed to let go.

But he just…_couldn't_.

He cared too much.

Gojyo felt his breath come in short gasps as his knees pulled up towards his chest, his body protesting against the action but unable to stop the movement.

He _cared_. Sanzo mattered to him; the blonde was the first person in a _long_ time that actually meant something to Gojyo.

He couldn't say what it was, yet…but it went deeper than a client-whore relationship, or even friendship.

The very idea of this was causing Gojyo to freak out, and he wanted nothing more than to make it _stop_. He didn't want this; he didn't want to get close to anyone…the last time that had happened, he'd been horribly hurt.

Jien had abandoned him; just like Sanzo probably would.

Gojyo had loved his brother with his entire heart, relying on him for everything from attention when no one else cared, to the education that his stepmother had refused to let him have. And it hadn't been enough to make him stay.

So, by all rights, Sanzo had absolutely no reason to be around for Gojyo; feeling anything more than tolerance for the man would just lead to pain.

Finally straightening out his body, Gojyo hit the call button for a nurse. He couldn't handle any more of this; it was too much. He was going to get his morphine level raised and lose himself in the haze of blissful sedation.

Because no matter how much Gojyo cared, Sanzo would never do the same.

_If_ the blonde even lived through the day.

* * *

The front door of the mansion swung open, and Sanzo found himself staring up into the perpetually-blank face of Gat, Hazel's private one-man army. Many people found the man intimidating; Sanzo couldn't say that he'd ever found _anyone_ intimidating.

He wasn't about to start now.

Still smirking enticingly- an expression he'd actually 'borrowed' from Gojyo- the blonde rested a pale hand on the doorframe.

"I'm here to see Hazel."

If Gat was surprised by the way that Sanzo was acting, considering that the bodyguard had stepped between the two violent, blonde men on more than one occasion, it didn't show in his expression. Instead, there was a moment of silence before the door closed in Sanzo's face.

Irritated, the blonde clenched his fists; Gat was probably just going to get the loanshark, but being closed out still _royally_ pissed him off_. _

It was a tense few minutes while Sanzo waited for the door to open again. Just as he'd begun formulating Plan B, though, he'd heard the lock begin to slide. Making sure that his anger hadn't begun to show again, Sanzo ran a hand through his hair, dishevelling it slightly in a way he'd been told looked 'sexy'.

This was inherently disgusting; but the anticipation of ending Hazel's life somehow managed to override the urge to vomit uncontrollably.

The door opened again, Gat standing in almost the exact same position as earlier. "Hazel will see y-…"

"Step aside, Gat." A pair of hands shoved into the side of the guard- and apparently, _butler _- but they didn't seem to achieve a single thing. It was only when Gat voluntarily moved aside that Hazel appeared in the doorway, the pure excitement radiating off him almost _palpable_.

Sanzo tried to soften his posture, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he still looked _violent_.

…Maybe he could run with this…

"Why, hello there, Sanzo. Fancy seein' you here!" Hazel reached out a hand, trailing a finger down Sanzo's chest; it took all the man's willpower not to rip that whole hand off and shove it straight down Hazel's throat.

That, however, would completely ruin his plan; so he fought down the urges and smirked a little more, not bothering to greet the loanshark. It would've sounded far too insincere if he'd done so.

"And what can I do for you today, darlin'?"

'_Five more minutes…and then I'll __**slaughter **__him!' _Sanzo didn't let his thoughts show in his expression or body language, instead tilting his body a tiny bit into the touch like he'd seen Gojyo do more than once.

Yes, his entire façade was based off the way the redhead acted and _re_acted; Gojyo was so effortlessly seductive that Sanzo, a man who'd never in his life attempted any such thing, knew this would only work if he purposely channelled his…_friend?_

Shuddering a little at the words that were about to come out of his mouth, Sanzo dropped his tone a little lower than usual.

"You put my boy in hospital. I'm feeling a little…_worked up_. What're you going to do about it?"

The look on Hazel's face made it seem like the man had just orgasmed on the spot. Sanzo truly thought he might've; this was what Hazel had been trying to get for _years_, after all.

But Sanzo had wanted to kill the man for just as long, and only one of them was going to get what they wished.

"_Sanzo," _came the guttural moan from the loanshark, "I can send you to Heaven."

'_Gullible fool. I'm sending __**him**__ to Hell.'_

"Then what are you waiting for?" Sanzo took a step forward, closing the gap between himself and Hazel while moving inside the house. Gat's hand flew out to stop him, but a vicious snarl from Hazel made the guard pause and drop his arm.

"Hazel- he hasn't been cleared. This could be unsafe." Sanzo was surprised- Gat barely spoke, and it was even rarer for him to contradict his employer. This was easily the most delicate part of Sanzo's plan, and the entire thing hinged on Hazel's reaction here.

The glare that was sent up at Gat almost made Sanzo sigh in relief.

"There's to be _no_ interruptions, Gat. Actually, go home early. I won't be needin' you for the rest of the night."

The last sentence was probably supposed to sound sexy, but it almost made Sanzo laugh. _Fuck_, but Hazel was a pathetic creature; someone that truly didn't deserve to live.

"The night…_at least_." Sanzo was positively _sickened_ with himself. But it was worth it…oh, it was _worth _it…

"You heard the man. Out, Gat." When Hazel grabbed Sanzo by the tie, Sanzo had a brief, irrational thought that Hazel was somehow playing _him_, rather than the other way around. One of his hands instinctively moved for his gun before he realised:

The loanshark was trying to be _seductive_.

Relaxing himself and trying not to laugh in Hazel's face, Sanzo allowed the man to lead him through the mansion by his tie. This whole situation was utterly ridiculous; an intelligent man would've easily seen through Sanzo's weak act, but Hazel was so blinded by the prospect of fucking the other man that he couldn't get past the surface appearance.

It was going just as Sanzo had planned.

"If you don't mind me askin', Sanzo…what brought all this on, pray tell?" Sanzo actually had to stop and think for a second before answering Hazel's question. He couldn't fuck this up now…

"I told you already: you put my usual boy in the hospital, and he won't be fucking _anyone_ for a while. But I'm horny _now_, and you always seem willing."

Hazel laughed flirtatiously, still holding Sanzo by the tie. Making a sharp turn that jolted Sanzo's neck uncomfortably, the loanshark entered the _fucking massive_ bedroom.

Rubbing at his now-sore throat, Sanzo fumed internally. Hazel was going to pay further for _that _little screw-up.

"I'm glad you've seen the light. You know what they say about sleepin' with dogs…"

The insinuation pushed Sanzo's anger higher- he assumed that was because of the implication that he had fleas, rather than the insult to Gojyo. Hazel finally released his tie and he stepped closer to the loanshark, reaching out to slide his hands into Hazel's jacket.

The loanshark shuddered in pleasure, his eyes closing.

It was _time_.

Slipping his hands back out and gripping the lapels of Hazel's jacket, Sanzo pushed the material off the man's shoulders, stopping when the garment bunched around Hazel's bent elbows and effectively trapped his arms.

The loanshark finally realised that something was _off_ when the undressing stopped, Sanzo's hands leaving his body. Cracking his eyes open, Hazel looked utterly confused; an expression that Sanzo promptly wiped away.

By punching Hazel in the middle of his face with as much strength as he could possibly muster.

Caught completely unaware, Hazel swayed unsteadily as his nose gave way under Sanzo's fist, his obvious arousal dulling reaction times and sensible thought.

Grinning sadistically, Sanzo grabbed the loanshark's hair and _threw_ the man to the floor, frowning momentarily as the plush carpet of the bedroom dulled the effect of Hazel's head hitting the ground.

Shrugging, Sanzo planted his heel firmly into the base of the man's spine, a pained groan from below sending his adrenaline higher than ever.

"You're _mine_ now, you fucking son of a goddamned _bitch."_


	29. Chapter 29: We Enjoy

*******Chapter 28 had some of the most amazing reviews I've ever received! Lots of breeding ground for ideas there (yes, I do often take inspiration from the things that reviewers tell me; plus this chapter's suggestions were pretty much in line with what I was already planning).

I wish that I could've written this chapter faster (because it often takes JessieDark to prompt me into writing, which I appreciate, but which is bad of me), but it took me a while to decide on the playing out of the fight scene…plus, it's O-Week…partypartyparty…*******

* * *

Although Sanzo generally had a fairly skewed sense of morality, there was not a single humane thing about the way in which he was treating Hazel.

Crouching down next to the loanshark's body, Sanzo gripped his hand in Hazel's hair and pulled his face up from the ground. Blood from his broken nose was pouring unabated down his lips and chin, staining pale skin a disgusting red colour.

"Having _fun_ yet, Grosse?" Sanzo slapped the man none-too-lightly on both cheeks, trying to shock the dazed look from his eyes- but it only seemed to throw Hazel further from full awareness.

Coughing, the loanshark opened and closed his mouth, obviously trying to say something. Sanzo had to admit, he was a little curious about what the normally-arrogant man would have to say in this situation; but _fuck_ if the man's accent didn't shit him up the wall.

"I…I…" For once in his life, Hazel seemed unable to form a proper sentence. The idea made Sanzo smirk; he'd actually managed to shut the insufferable loanshark up.

Sanzo released Hazel's hair and the man's head dropped straight back to the floor, settling into the thick carpeting with a muffled thump. Hazel let out another pathetic groan as Sanzo stood, using the back of the man's skull as a place to put his hand and boost himself up.

Hazel really wasn't putting up much of a fight. It was almost…disappointing. As pleasing as it was to grind the guy into the ground and have his plan go damn near perfectly, Sanzo couldn't help but wish for a little of the bloodlust anger that Hazel occasionally showed.

It was always just that little bit more exciting to know that he'd physically bested someone who put up a good battle. Like the guy he'd taken out from Gojyo's apartment building: he'd been stabbed pretty brutally in the forearm that day before managing to land a slug in the man's skull.

It was lucky that the city's police refused to touch any murders that occurred between members of different organisations; they were messy cases, and the cops were actually _happy_ that the criminals were exterminating each other. Otherwise, the amount of his own blood that Sanzo got everywhere would've been damning evidence.

As long as a single murder didn't turn into a string of deaths and then an all-out war, the cops pretended that nothing was happening. They'd do the same for Hazel's death- the man was notorious in the city, and the authorities would probably be thankful for the reduction in debt collection-related violence.

Sanzo had free reign, as the only person who would ever come to Hazel's aid was Gat; and the bodyguard was most probably dead by now. Hazel didn't even have the backing of an organisation, as he was freelance _and_ an unlikeable bastard. There was no one to take revenge for him.

"Wake _up_, you piece of shit," Sanzo sighed, using his foot to turn the loanshark's unresponsive body over. This was going to be no fun unless Hazel was awake and aware, but the man's eyes weren't even opening up.

Huffing impatiently, Sanzo retrieved his Smith and Wesson from its hiding place, taking careful aim and firing with a loud crack.

A bullet sank itself into the floor less than half an inch from Hazel's face, his light hair fluttering from the gun's discharge and impact. The loanshark's eyes snapped wide at the loud noise, a gasp escaping him- though it soon turned to a cough, the blood from his nose running down his throat thanks to the angle of his head.

Sanzo watched Hazel struggle to breathe for a few moments before deciding that a death not caused _directly_ by his own hand just wasn't good enough. He couldn't let the man choke on his own blood.

With an ease that was more practiced than it should have been, Sanzo kicked Hazel's head to the side before stomping his foot directly into the loanshark's gut. Hazel made an unpleasant retching noise, his stomach expelling its contents all over the carpet and removing the blood from his throat.

Sanzo's nose wrinkled; this was disgusting. As determined as he felt, it wasn't going to be possible for him to spend _too_ much time here. The smell was already beginning to irritate him.

Suddenly, a hand lashed out and caught at Sanzo's ankle, the grip surprisingly tight. How had he gotten his arms free of the jacket? Sanzo hadn't noticed a single movement. "What the _fuck?"_

"S-Sanzo…Why a-…" Hazel cut himself off, coughing again and wincing. "Why a-are you…"

"Because I fucking hate you," Sanzo snarled, trying to shake Hazel's hand from his leg. It wasn't working, and he was almost being pulled off-balance.

"Is…this about G…Gojyo…?" Hazel's eyes began to droop again, his words slurring a little from drowsiness and pain. Sanzo's lip curled, his fingers tightening around the revolver he hadn't yet put away.

"_No," _Sanzo snapped viciously, cocking the gun and placing a bullet directly into the exposed underside of Hazel's wrist. The loanshark's fingers instantly released Sanzo's ankle, and he let out a damn near _inhuman_ scream of pain as blood streamed from the torn veins and artery.

Frowning, Sanzo glared at the spots of blood he could faintly see on the slightly-reflective surface of his shoes. He knew the mess would also be on his pants, but the dark material hid it well; he was still pissed that an integral part Hazel was staining his outfit, though.

Maybe he'd throw this suit out when he was done…

A loud sobbing brought Sanzo back to reality. If he didn't finish this soon, it was possible that Hazel would bleed out of his own accord; and Sanzo had a _lot_ more to do before the other man died.

"Oh, shut up. Be a _man_, for once in your sad little life."

Hazel gasped repeatedly, trying to work past the tears and sobs of pain so that he could speak. It was more than a minute before any real words escaped his mouth.

"I'm…sorry…"

Scoffing, Sanzo guessed that this was a weak attempt to try and make him feel pity and release Hazel. It wasn't going to work. "Sorry for what, asshole?"

"For hurtin' y-your…lover…"

Sanzo felt his body begin to tremble as pure _rage_ took over. His _lover_? He didn't have a fucking _lover_; he never had, and he probably never would. Gojyo was just a convenient body, who merely happened to be exceptionally attractive. There was nothing else there, as he'd said time and time again.

"I've had enough of your pathetic whimpering," Sanzo spat out. Hazel, eyes widening at the manic violence in the other man's voice, instinctively tried to roll his body away from the imminent threat; he didn't get far.

Stepping one foot on either side of Hazel's torso, Sanzo dropped to sit on his victim's stomach, knees pinning the loanshark's arms to his body. It didn't actually occur to him, but the position was an exact replica of Gojyo's when the redhead had blindsided him in his own apartment; only this time, there was absolutely no chance of sex being involved afterwards.

With Hazel effectively trapped, the man letting out slight whimpers of fear, Sanzo reared his fist back.

"Oh Lord, _please_, S-Sanzo…I'm beggin' y-y-y…" Hazel's voice dropped to a squeak and he gagged when Sanzo's knuckles drove into his upper throat, where Sanzo guessed the man's larynx would be.

Judging by the desperate gasping sounds the man was now making, he'd guessed right.

"The way you speak pisses me off. If you're lucky, your voice won't be gone forever." A bullet to the throat would probably have been more effective in silencing the man permanently, but it would also probably have meant Hazel's immediate death. Sanzo still wasn't ready to end the torment.

The distraught look on the loanshark's face, combined with pale skin that was stained from cheeks to chin with drying blood, actually made Sanzo _laugh_.

It was insane; it was sadistic. But it was laughter all the same.

Hazel Grosse was completely broken, and it had been by Sanzo's own hands. At this point, death would have been the merciful option; after all, the proud narcissist had already been _begging_ for release from the pain, and that was while he'd still been able to breathe relatively well.

Sanzo had won.

Standing up and stepping back, Sanzo looked at the silver gun in his hands, planning his next move. As a sudden idea occurred to him, he tucked the weapon away and smiled brightly. Reaching down, he pulled a small yet sharp blade from the sheath strapped firmly around his lower calf.

"You've always wanted me to play with your dick, correct?"

* * *

Gojyo giggled. He wasn't entirely sure what was funny, but he just felt so good, so utterly _euphoric_, that he couldn't help but laugh gleefully.

He hadn't been this happy since the last time he'd been fucked into next week by Sanzo.

Lying back in his hospital bed with morphine flowing through his system, Gojyo couldn't feel the needles in his arms, the gashes and wounds all over his body, or the metal rods that had been inserted into his left hand. All he could feel was a wonderful _high_.

"Why didn't I try this shit earlier?" The redhead wondered aloud in a blissed-out tone. He felt no pain, and even his constant state of arousal had disappeared; this was _perfection_, well and truly.

It was almost like being completely _trashed_, only without the headache and nausea that often accompanied Gojyo's heavy drinking.

He felt healthy enough to just stand up and walk out of the hospital…but he didn't really want to move. He was a little worried that the pain would return if he did try and stand up.

Maybe he should ask the hospital to call Sanzo…he _really_ wanted to talk to the guy, for whatever reason. Gojyo giggled again; the blonde was so cute when he was angry.

Actually, now that he thought about it, why _wasn't_ Sanzo here with him? Gojyo could vaguely remember something about his ribs and some yelling…but he just couldn't pinpoint what had happened earlier.

Not that it mattered; _none_ of it mattered. How could something matter when everything just felt so _good?_ Gojyo wished that he had his cell phone, so that he could call his boyfriend.

Gojyo started laughing hysterically, gasping when his throat didn't quite work- but still not feeling any pain. How the Hell could he possibly consider Sanzo to be his _boyfriend?_ They'd been on two dates, if you could consider lunch together a 'date'; and one of those had ended pretty badly.

Gojyo finally got his laughter under control, grinning madly and relaxing even further into the mattress. He truly didn't care what Sanzo was to him; he just liked the idea of talking to the man.

He still felt fantastic, but having Sanzo there would just make things even better.

It was only another five minutes, though, before Gojyo began to crash. He slowly became aware of a pain in his hand, growing sharper by the second until it almost made him want to cut the thing off.

Shrugging, Gojyo didn't waste another thought before pressing the call button. He needed more morphine…he'd just come out of surgery, after all. Another dose would be fine.

It didn't take long for a nurse to come; this time it was a different one from the woman that Sanzo had terrorised. Gojyo was actually glad that Professor Hwang hadn't answered his call, as she might've vetoed another dose, but the redhead knew that he could charm the nurse. She seemed young and inexperienced, the kind of girl who would readily agree to anything he said.

Putting his most pained, pathetic look on his face, Gojyo looked up at the nurse from underneath his curtain of hair- which he'd actually talked the nurse from the previous day into washing and combing.

"I hate to bother you, miss, but I'm in a lot of pain right now." He pouted a little, watching the look in her eyes go from appreciative to worried.

"Oh, no! Would you like me to give you some more painkillers, sir?" God damn, this was easy. She hadn't even bothered to check and see when his last dose had been.

"If you wouldn't mind, honey…oh, and call me Gojyo." The girl blushed at the falsely-affectionate nickname, and then reddened even more with the permission to refer to Gojyo by his first name.

"_A-anything_, Gojyo," she stuttered out with pure innocence, the kind that couldn't _ever_ be faked. This hospital really needed some older female nurses, or maybe some straight men…and a few lesbians…the others were just too easy to manipulate.

"Thanks," Gojyo said with a bright smile. The girl nearly tripped over her own feet as she rushed from the room, quickly grabbing the necessary supplies. She was back within a couple of minutes, setting up to adjust the drug into Gojyo's I.V. and allow him to fall back into euphoria.

Truthfully, Gojyo should've been a little concerned about the way that the girl seemed more interested in staring at him than paying attention to her work; but the anticipation of finding that pain-free utopia was overriding his fairly-nonexistent common sense. He just wanted to feel that _happiness _again…

"Alright…all done, Gojyo! Feel free to call if you need anything at all- it's really no bother." The nurse spent a lot longer packing up than she did setting everything in place; Gojyo could only assume that she didn't want to leave him.

Yes, it was an arrogant thought; but the redhead had experienced so much of this behaviour that he just couldn't think anything else. Retail workers, waitresses, nurses, even the pissed-off partners of 'straight' male clients he'd been caught fucking: they could _all_ be charmed. And, if he laid it on thick enough, they often tried to stay with him. Too bad he'd never had a single urge to see any of them ever again.

As the nurse _finally_ left the room, Gojyo rested back and closed his eyes, waiting for the morphine to kick in again.

Before he could feel any sort of high, though, a horrible nausea rolled deep in his stomach, his organs feeling like they were trying to burst through his skin. Breath suddenly coming in short, erratic pants, the redhead curled over himself and tried to make the urge to vomit go away. "I…don't feel so good…"

No one heard his quiet admission, and no one witnessed as he rolled over, his proper food-starved stomach sending acids and bile all over the sterile hospital floor.

He was tired…so tired…

* * *

Sanzo tucked the knife away, wiping his blood-covered hands on Hazel's discarded jacket. A sound coming through the open window told him that the loanshark's now-unattached dick had landed in a bush somewhere…it seemed oddly appropriate.

The negative side was that Hazel had passed out halfway through the impromptu surgery; but his screaming had been a little too loud anyway, even after Sanzo had muffled him with a shirt from the wardrobe. Maybe it was for the best that he was no longer conscious.

Pulling Hazel's trousers back into place and refastening the belt, in order to leave a little 'surprise' for whoever found the body, Sanzo finally began feeling fulfilled. It was poetic justice: Hazel, who _always_ wanted into Sanzo's pants, would never be able to fuck anyone for as long as he lived.

Which might not be very long, anyway.

Sanzo froze in his movements when he heard a siren in a nearby street. They might not have even been coming to Hazel's, but there was always a chance that the neighbours had reacted to the gunshots or the screaming and called the cops.

Thankfully, the police were idiots: having their siren on was the perfect way to allow Sanzo to escape in time. Despite the fact that no one would investigate the murder itself, they would still attend a call-out; and Sanzo was probably well-known to the cops as someone involved in the prostitution, gambling and drug-dealing aspects of the organisation. The police were still trying to stamp those areas out, and so he couldn't risk being caught here.

Glancing at the window and then back to Hazel, Sanzo mentally calculated how long he had until the sirens would possibly arrive. '_Two minutes…maybe less…'_

He had to kill Hazel now. If he didn't…

Sanzo was hit by the memory of what he'd threatened to do to Hazel the day that the man had appeared at the café. If he didn't kill Hazel now, there was something _worse_ he could do.

Roughly shoving the man onto his back, Sanzo stood and took aim with his revolver. A single bullet would be enough…right _there…_

His anatomical knowledge serving him well once again, Sanzo placed a bullet directly into Hazel's neck, hopefully severing the spinal cord.

The man might die from blood loss, or he might be found quickly and live on- after a lengthy hospital stay, at the very least. Not that it would be much of a life: castrated, possibly para- or quadriplegic, and maybe even _mute_…

As he lifted himself through the window of Hazel's bedroom, Sanzo took one final look at the scene he had created: Hazel Grosse, facedown in a puddle of his own blood and filth.

He felt entirely _satisfied_, and it didn't even matter if the man lived or died. Either way, Sanzo had done it, and he doubted that anything could break his good mood. He'd gotten his revenge…as well as several thousand dollars that had been in a briefcase he'd seen on the way out.

He wasn't sure why he'd taken the briefcase; but he'd think about that later. Right now, he just wanted to think about Hazel's face when he'd realised what was about to happen to his favourite body part. Making for his car as fast as he could without being _too_ suspicious, Sanzo roared away from the curb and drove several miles away before pulling over to the side of the road.

Whipping out his cell, he turned it back on for the first time since Dokugakuji's call that morning and called his answering machine. He wasn't surprised when the mechanical voice informed him of eight new messages; most of them would probably be a furious Doku, and one was most likely Hakkai checking in.

He didn't expect the female voice that accompanied the first message.

"Mr Sanzo, this is Professor Hwang from the University Private Hospital. I need you to come in as soon as you possibly can…it's about the patient, Gojyo Sha."


	30. Chapter 30: I Realise

*******Mighty Odin on a tricycle, I made it to 30 chapters; I'm impressed! This one's specifically dedicated to JessieDark, whose continued pestering (in the best possible sense) gets these chapters written much faster than I would do on the basis of my own enthusiasm. This chapter is quite short, though; I don't have a lot of time right now.*******

* * *

Sanzo was filthy. Although he'd taken the time to wipe off his hands and arms, he couldn't get the blood and vomit from his suit- along with the smells that accompanied them.

It wasn't surprising that everyone he passed in the hospital was giving him incredibly confused looks. But there had been no chance to get a clean outfit: _something_ had gone wrong with Gojyo. The doctor hadn't explained over the phone, instead only saying that it was urgent.

Well, the hospital was between Hazel's estate and Sanzo's apartment; it made logical sense for him to go and see Gojyo _before_ returning home to change. Doubling back would take unnecessary time, and traffic was rather busy at this time of day.

_That _was the only reason why he'd gone straight there. He wasn't worried about the redhead; the man was like a cockroach in that he just didn't seem inclined to die. His head could be removed and he'd probably still run about as normal.

'_Though it would be somewhat of a shame if he lost that face…'_

"Sir? Sir, can I help you?"

Sanzo was almost glad that the reception woman broke through his thoughts before he could start tearing strips off his brain. She looked incredibly worried; the blonde could only assume that- what with the stench- she thought something was seriously wrong with him.

"I'm here to see Gojyo Sha."

The middle-aged woman frowned, quickly typing something into the computer. "I'm sorry, sir, but he cannot have any visitors right now. He's…"

"I'm his next of kin." There was something very odd about that sentence. Maybe it was the fact that Sanzo had never been _anyone's_ next of kin…his father had never made it to hospital.

"_You_ ar-…I mean, would you mind identifying yourself?" Clearly, she didn't believe him…not that Sanzo could really blame her. But that didn't mean that he wasn't going to get angry about it.

Leaning slightly over the desk, he raised his hand and pointed at the receptionist, who shrank back. Just as he opened his mouth, though, he heard someone call his name.

"Mr Sanzo! Please don't terrorise the staff. Come this way."

Sanzo closed his mouth and scowled, settling back into a less-threatening posture. It was Professor Hwang; he was still irritated with her about the earlier domestic violence assumption. Not to mention that _she_ didn't seem to like him much, either.

The receptionist sighed with relief as Sanzo turned to face the doctor, glad that the intense violet stare of the blonde man was now pointed away from her. She finally felt that she could breathe properly again.

Taking long strides, Sanzo quickly caught up to the professor. "What the Hell is all this about?"

The doctor stopped, turning to look up at Sanzo. He was surprised to see a concerned expression on her face; it made a change from the disapproval she'd shown towards him on most other occasions.

"Gojyo accidentally overdosed on morphine. He slipped into a coma after receiving three to four times the amount of painkillers that he was meant to get."

Sanzo felt sick to the bottom of his stomach. Overdosed? How the _fuck_ does a patient in a respectable hospital like this one manage to have an overdose? The sick feeling was soon joined by overriding anger, and his fists clenched by his side as he stared down at the professor.

"_What? _I doubt that it was his own fault, so which one of your employees is so fucking incompetent that they can't even find a correct dosage?"

A woman with two young children hurried past, looking thoroughly traumatised as she tried to block her kids' ears. Sanzo didn't give a shit; they probably heard worse on television.

"I'm not at liberty to discuss that. An internal investigation will begin soon; that's all I can tell you." Professor Hwang began walking again, ducking around other hospital workers and civilians. Rolling his eyes, Sanzo took off after her- only he made others dodge around _him_.

"…How is he? Apart from being in a coma, obviously?" The question was reluctant, but the doctor didn't seem to be forthcoming with any extra information. Sanzo just wanted to find out how long he was going to be expected to stick around.

"We're going to keep giving him a drug to cancel the effects of the morphine, but other than that there's not a whole lot we can do. His body needs time to flush the toxin from his system."

"Well then, I'm leaving. Inform me when he wakes up." Turning on his heel, Sanzo began to walk back towards the entrance. He ignored the doctor's protests; he didn't need to see Gojyo, because his presence wouldn't make a difference to the comatose redhead.

'…_Lying there in the hospital bed…barely a step away from death…unmoving…'_

Growling softly under his breath, Sanzo paused when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He decided that he should probably answer it this time, if just to get Doku off his back; he assumed that was who it would be.

"What?"

"Sanzo, I'm going to ask you one question and I want it answered _properly_." His boss sounded unusually serious; even more so than when he had an important job lined up. He hadn't even bothered with a greeting, or questioning the blonde on why he hadn't answered the phone in hours.

"Fine."

There was a deep breath from the other end of the line. "Which hospital is…_your friend_ in?"

…Not quite what he'd been expecting. "What? Why?"

"This isn't the time, Sanzo. Just answer the fucking question." Doku's voice was low, dangerous; Sanzo raised an eyebrow. Why was the man so interested in Gojyo? The redhead was just some random whore. But Doku was heading straight into his 'murderous mob boss' tone of voice; it would probably be best for Sanzo if he just answered the question.

"…The University Private Hospital. But…"

He trailed off when Doku hung up on him…usually it was the other way around. The blonde frowned; he didn't appreciate being treated like that.

'_Is he about to…come __**here**__?' _Sanzo couldn't think of any other reason why his boss would want to know the name of the hospital; maybe he should stay for a while. Just to see why the fuck his boss seemed to be going completely insane.

Resuming his path to the outside world, Sanzo stepped through the sliding doors of the front entrance and took a seat on a nearby bench. Ignoring the large 'No Smoking' sign behind him, he lit up a cigarette and inhaled deep, letting the nicotine cloud roll down his throat and then out his nose and mouth.

He'd give Dokugakuji thirty minutes; then he was going home. He was still filthy, after all…

* * *

Around twenty-six minutes and five cigarettes later, a familiar-looking car pulled right up to the front door of the hospital. Sanzo, from his seat just off to the side, watched bemusedly as the suit-clad legs of his boss appeared from the vehicle, the man himself moving surprisingly fast.

Sanzo could see Doku's eyes darting from side to side; it almost seemed like he was a dangerous predator looking for his next meal. It didn't take him long to see Sanzo, and he took quick, long strides over to the chain-smoking blonde.

"Where is he?" It took Sanzo a few moments to decipher the sentence, the words spoken so quickly that they almost ran together.

He hadn't seen Doku acting like this in a _long_ time; something was definitely up.

"Why do you care?" The blonde didn't bother standing up, instead taking another drag on his half-finished Marlboro.

The cigarette flew out of his grip when he was pulled upright by the front of his jacket, a slight cough escaping him as he narrowly avoided choking on the mouthful of smoke.

"Don't fuck with me. Where. Is. _Gojyo?_"

Sanzo froze at the name, the hand he'd been using to detach Doku's grip going limp. How…

Common sense deserting him, Sanzo spoke without thinking. "I don't know…he overdosed and they moved him."

"He _what?"_ The older man's grip tightened for a few seconds before he practically threw Sanzo down, only the blonde's natural grace and reflexes helping him stay upright. Sanzo straightened his shirt as he watched his boss practically run inside the hospital, his usual composure completely gone. What the fuck was happening here?

Following behind at a more leisurely pace, the younger man saw Doku clearly threatening the same reception worker; but he couldn't hear the conversation. He walked through the door just as Professor Hwang walked up, tapping Dokugakuji on the shoulder with a furious expression on her face.

"What is _wrong _with you people? Stop threatening the employees!"

"Take me to Gojyo Sha and this building will remain undamaged." _Sanzo _was nearly intimidated by his boss' expression and tone; but it still made no sense. Doku knew Gojyo's full name, and he looked barely more than a minute from true insanity…

He _couldn't _be…

"I won't allow you to hurt my patient." Eyebrows jumping high, Sanzo whistled softly under his breath, thoroughly impressed. This woman was stone cold- she could poker face the boss of a major crime organisation. No _wonder_ Hakkai seemed to trust her.

Doku's temper was clearly cracking, his voice a frustrated hiss. "I don't want to hurt him, you _idiot_. I just need to see him."

The doctor paused, her eyes narrowing. She made a quick gesture to her side, and a man who seemed to be a security guard appeared almost immediately.

"Escort this man to room one-three-nine. Keep an eye on him…and _him_." Sanzo scowled when the woman pointed in his direction as he walked up to the trio. '_Stupid bitch.'_

"Fine, but can we get a fucking _move on_?" Doku whirled around, following various signs to storm off in the direction of Gojyo's room.

"Hey!" The security guard took off after him, hand resting cautiously on the handle of his pistol. Even though none of the hospital employees knew who Doku _really_ was, it was obvious that the guard recognised how dangerous he could be.

But if Sanzo's irrational-seeming suspicion was correct, there was no need to worry about Doku assaulting Gojyo.

…Not that he could look much worse than he already did, thanks to that _prick_ Grosse…

For the first time since he had received the doctor's message, Sanzo smiled. Hazel Grosse was ruined; the man who had put the redhead here in the first place was gone, either from death or impairment.

If the piece of scum managed to live, he wouldn't be bothering anyone.

Sanzo shook himself back to the present when he saw Doku and his escort turn a corner. Taking up a moderate pace, he walked off in the direction of Gojyo's new room.

Turning into a new hallway, Sanzo nearly walked directly into the security officer; Doku had suddenly stopped at the closed door of a non-descript room, his fingers resting lightly on the handle.

"How long has it been…so many years…" Sanzo wasn't entirely sure if his boss knew that words were spilling from his mouth, his expression absent and wistful. Stepping around the guard, Sanzo crossed his arms over his chest and stood beside Doku.

"What's going on, Dokugakuji? Tell me."

Eyes that were nervous, excited and sad all at once were turned on Sanzo, the doorhandle squeaking as it was slowly turned. With a slightly shuddering breath, Doku spoke a few soft words.

"I was born with the name Jien…Jien Sha."


	31. Chapter 31: I Refuse

The door began to swing, but it barely opened more than a few inches before slamming shut with a loud bang. Dokugakuji, his hand clenching almost painfully around the handle, turned his head in Sanzo's direction.

The blonde's left hand was splayed firmly against the wood, only letting the door jerk open half an inch when Doku gave one more sharp pull.

"I don't know what sort of _game_ you think that you're playing, Sanzo, but if you don't step down _immediately_ I will remove you." The veiled threat was clearly a concession to the security guard looking rather nervously in their direction, but Sanzo knew what his employer meant.

And he didn't care.

"_You're_ his brother?" Sanzo's tone was perfectly level; it was almost _dangerously _calm. It didn't waver, even under the force of the furious expression on Doku's face.

"If the man in that room is really Gojyo Sha, then _yes_. Remove your hand before I get angry."

Sanzo let out a humourless laugh, his hand ensuring that Doku's next attempt at forcing the door open quickly failed. "I don't think so."

"I think you're forgetting that I'm his next of kin, Sanzo. I can…"

This time, Sanzo released a truly amused- if somewhat bitter- laugh; there was _no_ chance of Doku getting inside that hospital room. "Except you're _not_ his official next of kin. I am."

"You _what?_"

The blonde smirked as his boss let go of the door handle, turning his body fully in Sanzo's direction. "Explain yourself, Sanzo."

"Obviously, _I'm_ the closest thing Gojyo has to a family member. And we've known each other, what, a month? Less?" Sanzo still didn't dare remove his hand from the door, but he also made sure that his free arm was inconspicuously poised to quickly pull his revolver. It wouldn't take long for this to escalate.

"Is _that_ why you won't allow me to see my _brother_? Because you feel some sort of egotistic superiority, and when he sees me you'll lose your power over him? I'll give you five seco-…"

"He won't be able to do much of anything. Your precious _brother_ is in a coma," Sanzo snarled over the top of Doku's rant. Taking a step forward, he placed his body further between the older man and the room's sole entrance.

Doku visibly stiffened, his face drawing up in concern as he seemed to momentarily forget the quarrel. "What _happened?_ You…you said he overdosed…was it…on purpose?"

It may just have been Sanzo's general cynicism towards the world and its inhabitants, but he thought that he sensed insincerity in the man's worry. His anger began to take full control of his actions…this was going to become rather messy.

"No. It was staff incompetence…_this time_." Sanzo knew that the other man understood the innuendo behind that final comment. He wasn't particularly concerned with the fact that Gojyo hadn't _actually_ gone through with his suicide attempt; close enough was still good enough.

"Then why was he here to be overdosed in the first place?" Dokugakuji's voice shook a little, but it wasn't nearly enough to convince Sanzo of his sincerity. The pale, restraining hand remained firmly in place.

"That would be _your_ fault, Dokugakuji, so I suggest that you leave. _Now_." Armed with what little information the two brothers had provided him with, Sanzo had come to the conclusion that none of this would have happened if Doku hadn't abandoned his younger brother. Gojyo would never have turned to prostitution and then Hazel Grosse if his older sibling had taken the young boy with him.

Therefore, the fact that Gojyo was in hospital after a severe beating from the loanshark was Dokugakuji's fault. _That_ was why the man didn't deserve entry into his neglected brother's room.

"_My_ fault? Sanzo, I'm warning y-…"

"You already abandoned him once. I'm sure that if you meet, you'll just end up ditching him again. So get out before I _make_ you leave."

"_Abandoned_ him? I could barely have been considered an adult, and she was my _mother_. I got _scared_, and I made a mistake. Much like the one you're making right now." Doku's voice dropped to a low tone, his hand moving slightly towards the hidden holster in his jacket.

Completely forgetting that the security guard was still standing nearby, Sanzo pushed his hand quickly into his suit, grasping his revolver and pointing it directly towards Doku's face as the older man took a step back, reflexively drawing his own handgun and taking aim at Sanzo.

"A mistake you never bothered to fix. And now look what's happened? Your _idiocy_ landed your brother, who _still_ loves you to an inexplicable degree, in hospital from a _severe_ assault and a slight case of being _comatose_."

"Don't do this, Sanzo. Gojyo never existed to the official records, and how could I even know that we would end up in the same city? Our birthplace isn't even in this _county_."

Sanzo snorted, clearly unmoved by the older man's excuses. "Can you see how many fucks I give? _Leave, _and don't bother coming back. I'll kill you if you do."

The sound of running echoed down the near-empty corridor, and Sanzo swore under his breath. The guard must have called for reinforcements once the weapons appeared; this was going to be a problem. Luckily, the hospital wasn't government-owned so they might not be immediately arrested, but it would still cause some serious problems if they were caught with their guns drawn.

Doku seemed to come to the same realisation, and slowly hid his gun. He knew he was beaten; but he also knew that Sanzo wouldn't shoot with an audience coming.

As expected, the blonde mirrored the action, revolver disappearing into his filthy suit. The footsteps rounded the corner and Sanzo noticed Doku's eyes widen marginally; there must be more guards than he expected.

The older man's gaze flicked across to bore directly into Sanzo's eyes, his face curled up in anger. When he spoke, his voice was little more than a low hiss, dangerous and foreboding.

"You've made a powerful enemy, Sanzo. Let me assure you that you're now a marked man; better watch your back. _Nobody_ fucks with me and my brother- not even his lover."

It suddenly occurred to Sanzo that Doku had absolutely no idea what Gojyo had been doing since he was fourteen, nor did he understand whatever it was that the blonde and the redhead had. Well, he wasn't about to enlighten the older man…

As the security force began to surround them, Doku turned on his heel and stalked down the hallway, retracing his steps to the entrance. The guards made no move to stop him; they were probably just relieved that the confrontation had fizzled out.

Or so it seemed. Sanzo knew that this wasn't over; not by a long shot. He hadn't meant to take it this far…but it was too late now. Dokugakuji was out for his blood- judging from prior experience on the opposite side of assassinations, Sanzo knew that he had approximately three to six hours before the first people were sent out for the hit.

Doku wouldn't send them into the hospital straight away; he'd wait to see if Sanzo was going to leave so that he could avoid accidentally harming Gojyo. They would probably be waiting out the front, if he didn't go home between now and when the assassins were sent out.

Sanzo may have held an important position in the organisation, _and_ with Dokugakuji; but for some ridiculous reasons that he couldn't even _begin_ to identify, he'd stepped over 'the line'. He'd refused Doku access to his long-lost brother, and had actually _meant_ his death threat.

And Dokugakuji had clearly meant his, too. After years of pushing the older man as far as he could, Sanzo had finally made him snap. His time in this city, and probably even this _state_, was quickly coming to an end if he wanted to live.

The guards weren't approaching any further, but they also weren't making any attempt to disperse. Glaring at them, Sanzo swung the door open a little too forcefully and stepped inside, the wood shaking as it slammed back into its closed position. He could still faintly hear the guards moving outside, but the room seemed to be relatively soundproof; he was glad.

This was going to be goodbye.

The infuriating redhead was the only other person in the room, a second bed lying unused in the opposite corner to Gojyo. Various machines beeped and whirred softly, connecting into Gojyo's body and making sure that he stayed alive.

The slow rise and fall of the man's chest was the only physical clue that he _was_ still alive, his face soft and blank below the oxygen mask that was once more over his mouth. Some of the bruises and cuts were beginning to heal, but his closed eyes and nose were still disgustingly purple; at least it seemed that Gojyo wouldn't gain any new facial scars from Hazel's _fun_.

Not that Sanzo _cared_: he was leaving. He wouldn't see Gojyo again as long as there was a price hanging over his head- the man's _brother _was the one calling the hit, after all.

Taking a step closer to the nearly-motionless body, Sanzo sighed softly. He wasn't going to get a chance to beat the shit out of the man properly over his stupidity; but if he tried to stick around until Gojyo woke up, he'd be spending all his time fending off swarms of hitmen. As it was, even when he moved he'd be facing the same thing, though to a much smaller degree.

"You idiot," Sanzo muttered at the redhead. "This is all your fault…now I have to call in a few favours. Lucky for you, Sanzo was a good man with a lot of friends…otherwise I'd be pawning off all your shit to pay for my new place."

It vaguely occurred to Sanzo that Gojyo had no idea about the blonde's guardian and namesake; he wasn't about to explain everything to an unconscious audience, though. Even if the redhead _was_ his friend…his close friend.

Sanzo shook his head. This was getting ridiculous, and he was just wasting time that he _should_ have been using to get the Hell out of dodge. It was just Gojyo- the man was disposable. Unimportant.

Checking his watch, the blonde raised an eyebrow. He needed to move on before a surveillance guy could be put into place.

He moved right up to the bedside, staring down at the battered man sleeping peacefully there. Almost involuntarily, Sanzo's hand stretched out towards Gojyo's scarred cheek; but he caught himself before he made contact, long fingers pausing and then curling into a fist, hand falling back into the pocket of his suit pants.

Turning, Sanzo began to walk to the door; but something sitting on a small table by the entrance caught his eye.

A large notepad and a pen, probably left behind during the rush of Gojyo's overdose. Sanzo felt old anger bubble at the thought of the hospital's fuck up, but he let it go. It was _nothing_ compared to the anger he felt for Dokugakuji at that moment.

Detouring to the table, Sanzo picked up the pen before pausing; he couldn't think of a thing to say. But then again…he wouldn't have bothered with the pen if he truly didn't have any last words for Gojyo.

Tapping the pen against the table thoughtfully, Sanzo wasted another few seconds in silence before quickly scratching down a few sentences. He didn't bother signing the note, only folding it in half and writing Gojyo's name on the front, placing it back on the table.

Sanzo glanced over his shoulder, taking one last look at the half-dead body stretched out behind him. How long would it take the man to wake up? A day? A week? A _year?_ Or maybe Doku decide to simply pull the plug one day.

It was all in the older man's hands now. Sanzo was finished, and now it was up to Gojyo's brother to do what he should have done thirteen years ago.

"Goodbye, Gojyo…you fucking prick."

Facing forward again, the man cleared his throat and stood up straight. It was time to go home, pack his shit, and duck off; hopefully before any of Doku's men arrived.

Not wasting any more time, Sanzo pushed the door open with a lot less force than earlier, stepping out into a corridor still swarming with security. He didn't bother closing the door, allowing the men to see that the patient was unharmed…or, at least, no more injured than he previously had been.

Without another word he stalked purposefully towards the hospital's entrance, even giving Professor Hwang a slight nod as she hurried past, glaring suspiciously at him.

He made it back to his car without further incident, Doku clearly not having had the time to set up a watch yet. It wouldn't take much longer, though; Hell, they might already be at his apartment.

But that was a risk he had to take. Chances were that he could handle almost anyone his _former_ boss sent to him; but they'd come in higher and higher numbers until he was dead or untraceable. Sanzo wasn't an idiot: he knew that he could take three or four at a time, but seven or eight would be pushing it.

Doku had a _lot_ of men, and this situation was probably beyond negotiation. As opposed as he was to the idea, Sanzo had to run.

His car roaring to life, the blonde pulled out of the parking space and headed home, driving more than a little above the speed limit through the heavy traffic.

His cell phone was pressed to his ear the entire trip, calling in favours from men his father had known from organisations dotted around the country. By the time he made it home, he had new identification, a possible job and an apartment in a different state.

He just had to make it there first.

* * *

Sanzo was placing his wallet and cell phone into the pockets of his black jeans, packed bag resting on the bed, when a knock came at the door. Making sure that his revolver was in its proper position, he moved out into the front hall.

"Sanzo? I've come to check in with you after…this morning."

It was Hakkai…which did nothing to make Sanzo lower his guard. If anything, it put him more on edge. Walking to the door, Sanzo quickly looked through the small hole to the hallway; the brunette was alone.

"And what do you have to tell me?" He didn't open the door. Hakkai was the only man Doku had that could possibly take Sanzo out alone; it was within the realms of possibility that this wasn't just about Gat.

"…Can I come in?"

"No."

When Hakkai didn't question Sanzo further, the blonde's suspicion was confirmed. Hakkai was here to kill him, and he knew that Sanzo knew. But how long would the man maintain the charade that he was only here about earlier?

"I took care of Gat. Finding him again will be…an impossibility."

Sanzo knew that it was the truth- otherwise, the man would just have burst in and started a gun fight immediately. Hakkai wasn't a dishonest person…very often.

"Good. Is there anything else?" Sanzo took a few steps back, positioning himself behind a side table. He drew his Smith and Wesson, settling into a defensive stance.

Several seconds of silence passed, adrenaline starting to pump through Sanzo's system. "I think you know that there is."

A loud bang rang through the apartment, the door hinges screaming as they were forced inwards. Sanzo kicked the table as hard as he could towards the entrance, sending it screeching into Hakkai's legs before the brunette could react.

As Hakkai bent a little from the pain in his knees, Sanzo fired off two quick shots; but they lodged themselves in the door, the other man ripping the wood in front of himself as a shield.

The door was thrown aside, a shot coming in Sanzo's direction that forced the blonde to throw himself down and roll defensively. A second and third hit the floor in front of his thigh, and it was then that Sanzo _knew_.

Hakkai wasn't trying anywhere near as hard as he could have been- those shots should have connected.

Sanzo shot again, this time taking care to ensure that the bullet flew cleanly past Hakkai's ear. Jumping to his feet, the blonde spun to take cover through an open doorway, leaning against the wall beside the frame and panting lightly. Peering around, Sanzo saw Hakkai's left hand quickly reach up to tap his right shoulder.

"I like you, Sanzo. You deserve a head start, and Gojyo would be rather upset if you died…but it would be best if you leave a mark."

Another gunshot sounded out, and Sanzo quickly drew his face back to safety as a bullet flew by. Hakkai was doing this for _Gojyo_? Bizarre…

Then again, who knew how Hakkai's mind worked? Sanzo realised that he should just be grateful for the allowance; he wasn't actually sure if he could win a fight against the other man.

Quickly ducking into the front room, Sanzo took aim as carefully as he could. Pulling the trigger, he watched as Hakkai's shoulder was flung back from the force of the bullet, the man's gun dropping to the floor.

"I'll be seeing you, Sanzo," the brunette said with _far_ too much cheer in his voice as he leant back against the wall, hand pressed to his wound. The bloody fingers pulled away to give a small wave.

"I'm sure you will."

Turning away, Sanzo quickly walked towards his bedroom. The fire escape was just outside his window; it was a good place to smoke on warm nights. Pausing only to reload his gun, the blonde grabbed his packed bag and car keys, forcing the window up and sitting on the sill.

Glancing quickly around the room for anything he might need, Sanzo swung his legs from the building. It was time to go.

He wouldn't be let off so easily next time…so he might as well make it as difficult as he could for them to trace him. Which was why he was moving to a city that was three times bigger and a twenty hour drive away. No one was going to find him without a _lot_ of asking around.

Especially not Dokugakuji…or Gojyo.

Sanzo ignored the way his body suddenly seemed to become a little heavier. It was probably just the effect of the adrenaline filtering away.

Nothing more.

* * *

*******It's a small point, but I _have_ noticed that most doors seem to open in towards a room; it's a lot harder to stop someone from opening one that way, though, and I quite like the image of Sanzo standing the way I wrote. So this hospital has doors that open out into the corridor. It's artistic license, baby! Also: I like this chapter more than usual. I really do. Lots of people overreacting to things…those crazy criminals.*******


	32. Chapter 32: He Watches

Dokugakuji sat by his motionless brother's hospital bed, hunched over himself with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. For the first time in thirteen years…he knew where Gojyo was.

And, also for the first time in just as long, he felt like Jien Sha all over again. It was as if he was eighteen and clueless once more…

Doku wasn't sure if Gojyo remembered what had happened one day, not long before their mother's death, when the woman had been angrier and more drunk than usual. He himself had been out, had only left the house for thirty minutes or so while his mom had been at a bar, drinking herself stupid…

He knew Gojyo would be able to handle himself for the short time. The poor kid had been used to being left alone. When he'd returned, however…

Doku shuddered as he remembered the scene he'd walked in on that day. Both his mother and his brother had been passed out on the living room floor: the bitch snoring loudly with blood covering her hands, and Gojyo unmoving, dark crimson dripping down the side of his swelling face.

The kid didn't wake up for a day and a half; Doku didn't know what his mother had done in that time, because he'd spent every minute by Gojyo's bedside. Just when he'd been thinking that it would be worth facing his mother's wrath and getting a doctor, Gojyo had begun to stir. Upon waking, he didn't ask what had happened to him; the boy had just smiled softly, vulnerable sadness tainting the expression. Gojyo didn't mention the incident again, leading his brother to think that he couldn't remember a thing.

Doku hadn't _ever_ experienced relief like he had that day, when innocent red eyes had fluttered open. He had honestly believed that Gojyo might not have woken up; and that was the day that Jien Sha had fully realised that his mother and his half-brother couldn't possibly co-exist.

Gojyo was just a child, and that woman was so far away from reality that she would regularly and mercilessly _beat_ a defenceless boy.

One of them was going to have to go, and it was obvious to Dokugakuji's barely-adult mind which one it was going to be. The urge to protect Gojyo overrode whatever small remnants of positive emotion he felt towards his 'mother'- the title used only in the strictest biological sense.

In all truth, he'd been planning on making some more money and simply taking Gojyo away, leaving the woman to drink herself to death. She'd never been that bad towards Doku himself, but he had often seen the look she got when she raised her hand to his beloved younger half-brother. A woman who could hold such pure _hatred_ didn't deserve the love of her only true child.

But then, only a few days before he was ready to take Gojyo and run, Doku had stupidly assumed that his mother wouldn't reappear during the light hours. She'd been missing for three days already, and the older boy had almost been ready to think that she wasn't coming back this time.

So he'd left his brother alone for the first time since the redhead had taken his thirty-six hour nap, needing to ask an important favour of an older friend; something that was best done without a nine-year-old by his side.

A horrible feeling for foreboding had overtaken him while he had still been talking to his friend, and Dokugakuji had immediately run the entire way home. Slamming the door open, his eyes had seen the sight he'd hoped never to witness again: Gojyo sitting in a corner, looking _far_ too resigned to his perceived fate, with their mother looming over him and shouting drunkenly.

Only this time, when the woman raised her fist, Doku had seen the knife she held.

He hadn't been fast enough to stop the first cut…well, the first cut that he _saw_. Now that he could look at his brother's adult face, skin unblemished by dripping blood, there were clearly _two_ scars running across his cheek. They were too similar to be from separate occasions, and they were in the same place as the younger boy's fresh knife wound.

The adult Doku felt an irrational flash of anger towards the long-dead bitch: she had cut Gojyo _twice_. As far as he knew, that was the only time she had raised an actual weapon to the young boy; usually her fists were deemed enough, and if not, then occasionally a belt, a saucepan or a flying bottle- easily dodged- were employed.

But a _knife_…that had just been the final straw.

As he ran over to the pair, Doku had seen his mother's hand lift up again; judging from the subtle shift in her grip, the next cut was intended to kill. Mind on autopilot, focused only on keeping his brother alive, Doku had grabbed the first thing he saw.

The heavy lamp had nearly caved the side of his mother's head, and there had been no way that she could live through such a blow. The blood pouring from her head, splattering a little across Doku's hands and face, had been testament enough to that.

Unable to process what he'd just done, Doku had somehow figured that he couldn't allow Gojyo to see him in his current state, covered in the blood of his only remaining parent. So he'd run; stumbled away to the house of his older friend, lucky that no one saw him and called the police.

A few hours later, once he had rid himself of the blood, he'd gone back to find Gojyo. But the kid had disappeared; three weeks of constant searching found no trace of him. It was only when the police began to investigate the discovery of a dead woman found decomposing in her empty house that he had given up: he couldn't stay in the same town. He couldn't let himself be caught.

That was how he had ended up in _this_ city, caught up with an underground crime syndicate. After all, what else could a kid with a hidden past do? No one had questioned him about things he didn't tell willingly, including his name; they'd simply renamed him as 'Dokugakuji'.

Jien Sha had disappeared then, replaced by a man who didn't flinch at the thought of murder. After that initial death…the second killing didn't affect him at all. The subsequent murders were nothing compared to the fact that he had killed his own mother, regardless of the fact that it was an act of protection and mercy.

But he had still tried to find his brother. He'd kept a constant ear out for any mention of a man who could possibly have been Gojyo; but there was nothing. Whatever his brother had been doing for the past thirteen years, it wasn't the sort of thing that put him on voting rolls and tax databases.

Dokugakuji didn't particularly want to think about how Gojyo had been making his living; the fact that he had apparently been recently assaulted only added to that. And then there was the fact that he had gotten together with Sanzo…

The older man sighed as he thought of his ex-employee. The man was a valuable asset, and Doku actually _respected _him; but Sanzo had tried to stop Doku from seeing his brother.

_That_ was unforgivable, regardless of whatever kind of…_relationship_ the pair might have had.

As much as Doku couldn't reconcile the thought of cold, bitchy Sanzo being with another person, let alone a man _and_ his brother, two events stuck out in his mind.

One was the day that Sanzo had been constantly checking his watch instead of watching the business deal going on before him; it had been obvious that the kid was anxious to go somewhere. When he'd heard that Sanzo had later been seen having lunch with 'a handsome redheaded guy', Doku hadn't thought it possible that the redhead was…Gojyo. It must have been, though; and that meant that Sanzo had been anxious to go on a _date_ with Dokugakuji's brother.

And then there was the second occasion: the day that Doku had sent Sanzo away, the blonde losing his focus every few seconds. He _had_ said that his 'friend from the other day' had been put in hospital…he must have meant Gojyo. Sanzo had been completely out of sorts because of _Gojyo _being hurt; maybe the emotionless blonde wasn't as cold as he seemed.

Doku's breathe caught as he remembered one more incident: the morning he had found out that Sanzo was gay. He'd been talking on the phone with an anonymous man…had he actually been talking to his _brother_?

Thinking hard, Doku tried to recall the sound of the man's voice. Thanks to the rather memorable conversation, he could still remember a few fragments of the other's languidly amused tone; it was nothing like the naively optimistic voice Gojyo used to have, but that was to be expected. His voice wouldn't have broken until a few years after their mother's death.

Finally straightening up, Dokugakuji reached across to run his hand through his brother's hair. If only he'd known that the man on the other end of that phone line had been Gojyo…all this could have been avoided. His only remaining family member wouldn't be comatose in the hospital; he wouldn't have a hit out on the best damned assassin-cum-bodyguard he'd ever met.

And he wouldn't be begging the universe to let Gojyo _live_.

"I'm sorry, Gojyo…I'm sorry that I couldn't protect you, and I'm sorry that I left you…Sanzo was right. I _am_ to blame for all this."

With a heavy sigh, Doku slumped back in the chair. He was exhausted and considering sleep when the door quietly opened.

Hand sliding towards his gun, the man turned in his seat to face the intruder. When he caught sight of their features, though, the hand on his gun froze from shock.

"_Hakkai?"_ Why the fuck was his second-best assassin here? Hakkai couldn't _possibly_ know that Gojyo was his brother.

The brunette jolted slightly from shock, his face crinkling in confusion for a split-second before a falsely polite smile spread across his lips. "Why, hello, Dokugakuji. I wasn't aware that you knew poor Gojyo here."

Doku couldn't help the bitter snarl that appeared on his face. "_Know_ him? He's my _brother_. How do you know him, and why are you here?"

If Hakkai was shocked by that revelation, it didn't show on his face. He merely continued to smile, his hands coming up in surrender.

"I met Gojyo through Sanzo. A professor here is an old friend of mine; I was the one who organised for Gojyo to be placed here when Sanzo found him like _this_. I simply came to check on him, as I was getting treatment anyway." Stepping into the room, Hakkai gestured to his shoulder. Doku could easily see the tell-tale hole in his blood-stained shirt, white bandages peeking out from the hem of the clothing; it was obvious to him what had happened.

"Sanzo shot you."

"Indeed, he did. He shot me and jumped from the window of his apartment; I couldn't follow him."

Dokugakuji's eyes narrowed; he had a feeling that Hakkai wasn't telling him the whole story, but decided that the notoriously tight-lipped man wouldn't give anything more away, even under threat of violence.

"Go back to the office and tell Yisou to track Sanzo down. I can't let him live after what he did."

Although Hakkai didn't know about the events that had transpired between Doku and Sanzo, he nodded and left the room. The older man turned to face forward again, his fingers drumming anxiously on his knee. He wished that there was something he could do to wake his brother up…none of this would seem _real_ until he could see those eyes.

He would know, then, that this man really was Gojyo. This tanned, well-built, _tall_ adult; the only things he had in common with the child Doku remembered were the startling red hair and the bruised face.

He felt bad about the fact that, when Gojyo awoke, he'd be hurt by Sanzo's inevitable fate…but there was nothing he could do. Procedure dictated that the hit needed to be carried out; he couldn't allow Sanzo to get away with such blatant insubordination. _Especially_ when it related to the man lying half-dead in the hospital bed.

"I'm sorry, Gojyo…but I have to do this."

* * *

The following morning, Dokugakuji slowly returned to consciousness; he couldn't remember falling asleep, but evidently he had. His body complained about being stuck in the uncomfortable chair, but he stood up and stretched out, joints cracking appreciatively. Rolling his head from side to side, the movement came to a sudden halt when something on a small table caught his eye.

Walking across the room, his legs cramping a little from the movement, he reached out and picked up the folded piece of paper. He was fairly certain that he recognised the handwriting that spelled his brother's name across the front of the note- it seemed awfully close to Sanzo's.

He hesitated before unfolding the letter; did he _really_ want to read something that his brother's lover had written? But, on the other hand, it may have contained clues about Sanzo's intended destination. Doku hadn't been surprised to hear that Sanzo had escaped: he would have been expecting an assassin to come after him. The blonde wasn't an idiot, and although Hakkai was good, Sanzo was better.

After a few more seconds, Doku decided that he needed to see what Sanzo had written. Knowing the blonde, it wouldn't be disgustingly sappy; though if it _was_, he'd definitely get a good laugh from it. Dokugakuji felt like he needed that right now, and if Gojyo was anything like he remembered, the redhead wouldn't begrudge him a moment of enjoyment.

He was surprised to see that the paper was mostly blank. A quick scan showed him that it wasn't even signed; there was a certain lack of intimacy implied by that. Was it possible that he had misinterpreted the pair's relationship?

Doku's confusion only grew as he read what the blonde had written:

'_Gojyo._

_Don't worry about Grosse anymore; you can quit._

_And make your brother buy you a new cell phone. The other was destroyed._

_Goodbye.'_

The entire thing was…emotionless. That wasn't the last note of a man to his lover, even when written by someone like _Sanzo_.

But as Doku re-read the letter, his confusion at the tone was replaced by something else: 'Grosse'?

There was only one person that Doku knew to have that name. Why, though, would Gojyo have been involved with Hazel Grosse? Did he borrow money? Or had Gojyo been performing collections for the loanshark? In either case, Doku didn't approve. Hazel Grosse wasn't someone he wanted around his brother…and it sounded like Sanzo felt the same.

Then again, that was to be expected, considering how badly the two blondes go along.

But from the note, it sounded like Sanzo _had_ gotten Gojyo away from Hazel. How, though? It didn't make any sense…

Dokugakuji suddenly had a bad feeling about the whole situation; and his instincts had served him well over thirteen years of criminal activity. Pulling out his cell phone, he dialled Hakkai's number.

"Yes, Dokugakuji?"

"Get someone to trace Hazel Grosse for me. I want to know his exact location."

There were a few moments of silence before the brunette's cheerful tone assaulted Doku's ears once more.

"Certainly. I'll get right onto that."

"Thanks."

Dropping his cell phone onto the table where Sanzo's note had sat, Doku crinkled the paper between his fingers. Did he want to allow Gojyo to see the letter? Or should he just pretend like Sanzo had never existed? The note had been awfully final…it would probably be safe to let Gojyo have it.

Rolling his eyes at his own stupidity, Dokugakuji replaced the letter beside his cell. Even as a child, Gojyo had never taken well to being controlled; it would be disrespectful of Doku to do so now.

Turning away from the table, the man froze.

_What_ had that been about a new cell phone?

* * *

*******A new point of view! I thought that this was a good chance to get a fresh perspective on the relationship. I rushed the proofing of this chapter a little in order to get it out, because otherwise it would have been a few days before I could get it ready; please excuse any ridiculous errors.*******


	33. Chapter 33: I Imagine

*******This chapter was mostly handwritten on the three hour train/tram ride between my hometown and my university. I'm pretty sure the stranger sitting next to me was reading everything I put down. But Hell, at least I had something to do when the train was delayed mid-journey!*******

* * *

Sanzo was infinitely glad for the gift of foresight.

He handed his credit card to the receptionist, waiting impatiently while she entered a sequence of numbers into the machine before he was handed the receipt and a pen. Effortlessly scribbling down the flowing signature of a name that wasn't one of his usual aliases, the blonde placed both items back on the desk and ignored the appreciative smile the older woman gave him.

Thanks to the number of skilled forgers he knew, it had been easy to open and maintain a legitimate-looking bank account under completely false details. Only he and the forger knew of this particular fake name, and Sanzo alone knew of the account's existence.

Dokugakuji wouldn't be able to trace him through the use of the card, and as the blonde would probably _borrow_ a new car upon leaving the hotel, his former employer would lose that tracking method as well. It was going to be as if Sanzo had simply ceased to exist.

After all, he had prepared for this sort of situation a long time ago. It hadn't just been in the case of a hit being sent out for him; it was also a viable escape route for if the police had ever issued a warrant for his arrest.

"I hope you enjoy your stay, Mr Thomsa." The woman smiled, her crooked and stained teeth on full display. Sanzo's blank stare didn't change as he waited for his room key to be put on the desk, unwilling to take it straight from her hand. It was obvious that the woman wanted him to put his hand out so that she could initiate _accidental_ contact, but Sanzo had no tolerance for such actions.

Eventually, the key was pushed across the polished wood of the desk with a slight scraping noise, and it was snatched up without a word.

The first floor room of the relatively nice hotel was cramped and blandly decorated, Sanzo choosing frugality over comfort. He saw no need for a room with a view; he just wanted a few hours sleep before he continued with his drive. Only when it had gotten to the point where he had almost driven off the road from exhaustion did he allow himself to stop, this hotel being the first place he had come across after making his decision.

Sanzo had only travelled about half the distance he needed to, but several consecutive nights of minimal sleep had left him physically and mentally exhausted. Even his movements were visibly slower than usual, no adrenaline flowing through his system to rejuvenate him as it had during the shoot-out with Hakkai.

Hakkai…why had the man allowed him to leave? The brunette simply didn't seem like one to disobey a direct order…though judging by what he had said, it seemed as if Hakkai was merely _delaying_ the order, rather than all-out ignoring it.

As he reclined stiffly on top of the hotel bed, Sanzo reflected on the brunette. Would the man tell Doku about Hazel when the mutilated loanshark- or his rotting corpse- was found? But then that would most probably implicate Hakkai in the unofficial execution, and possibly cause the man to end up with a price on his own head. Chances were, Sanzo decided, that Hakkai would keep his mouth shut about how Hazel had ended up in such bad condition.

Not to mention the fact that Hakkai seemed to have formed some kind of inexplicable bond with a certain redhead. '_Gojyo would be rather upset if you died'_? What the Hell did that have to do with anything? It didn't matter what Gojyo felt. He was just an annoyance: it was his fault that Sanzo was in this crappy hotel, after all. It was his fault that Sanzo was on the _run_, like a coward.

Sanzo should just have let Dokugakuji fuck with his brother's mind more. He should have let Hazel kill the redhead. He should've let the whore do the job himself, or shot him on that day when Banri had been taken down.

But, most of all…he shouldn't have fucked an anonymous, gorgeous prostitute that he saw grinding through a pretentious club. He _knew_ that sex led to trouble; even when it seemed like it was going to be a no-strings-attached deal.

Well, there had _definitely_ been strings here. Sanzo supposed that they were gone now that he would never see Gojyo again; he was done with the redhead and his asshole of a brother.

The blonde was still a little off-balance from that revelation. He'd been fucking his boss' long-lost brother…

Sanzo's eyes widened as he realised that his body was beginning to react to the memories of taking Gojyo's ass. And naturally, the more he tried to reign in his thoughts, the further they developed.

It didn't take long for his mind to begin replaying the ridiculously erotic sight of Gojyo touching himself in the car…the sound of Gojyo's voice as he practically _begged_ Sanzo to take him…the way that the man rested back on the bed, not at all self-conscious as he bared his naked body to Sanzo…the body writhing and arching beneath the blonde as Gojyo lost himself to pleasure.

A growl broke from the back of Sanzo's throat as frustration flooded him, his jeans getting tight and his fingers flexing as he consciously tried to prevent his hand from palming his growing erection. He hadn't felt anything but his own hand since that day, and even _that_ had been rare. His body wanted to fuck, even if his mind resisted, and the throbbing in his groin was getting a little hard to ignore.

The sudden image of Gojyo from the very first night, naked and on his knees as those startling eyes looked up seductively, broke Sanzo's self control. Despite how physically tired he was, or possibly _because_ of that, he couldn't hold out against his natural urges any further.

Sanzo's right hand slid down his shirt-covered stomach and pulled at his fly, the movement exciting his cock further. His other hand flicked his belt open with only a couple of smooth motions, nimble fingers also slipping the button of his jeans from its hole. Shoving his jeans and underwear a little down his thighs, Sanzo hesitated briefly before loosely wrapping his fingers around his hot flesh.

The tiniest groan sounded in the quiet room, Sanzo immediately tightening his grip as his eager hips pressed up to search for more friction. He didn't want to do this…but he couldn't stop himself.

His fist slid up and down his cock as it grew to full size, the movement sending tremors of pleasure through Sanzo's entire body and small twitches through his erection. The head was an angry red colour, days of repression causing him to be more sensitive than he normally would be as his hand sped up.

Closing his eyes, Sanzo fell into an unwitting fantasy: his brain replaced his hand with a mouth, warm and wet and _amazing_. A tongue was sliding across the small slit in his cock, lapping up the precome that appeared as Sanzo's hips rolled on the bed. _God_, Gojyo knew just how to suck him off…

Sanzo's breathing picked up as the scene changed; he was no longer buried in Gojyo's mouth, but rather in his ass with the redhead sitting atop him, riding slowly with his hair swaying gently. The pace, although entirely under Sanzo's control, was damn near _torturous _for the blonde, and his imagination supplied an image of Gojyo going faster. Face contorting in pure bliss and abandon, the fantasy-redhead rested his hand on Sanzo's chest and rubbed across one still-covered nipple.

Sanzo's hips bucked hard as the fingers on his nipple pinched, a dull pain spreading through the area and pushing his arousal higher. Yes, he was depraved; but it felt so _good_…

The hand on his cock sped up even further as his mind increased Gojyo's pace, the redhead fucking himself on Sanzo in a frenzied display of glistening bronze skin and shining hair. The blonde knew that he wouldn't be able to hold out too much longer, and his cock gave a particularly enthusiastic jump as if showing its agreement.

The scene changed once more; Sanzo's legs strained against the restricting material of his jeans in an effort to spread wider, to mirror the pose that his mind had created for him. Fantasy-Gojyo was braced above him, red eyes closed as his mouth released a series of erotic moans and semi-intelligible speech. "Shit, Sanzo…so good…_fuck_…oh, God…you want it harder, babe?"

Sanzo heard himself groan, his voice coming out in both the fantasy and the real world. "_Yes_, Gojyo…fuck me harder, you bastard…make it _hurt_…"

Purple eyes jolted open as Sanzo realised what he was fantasising about, but he couldn't stop the film from playing in his mind. He was writhing and moaning as Gojyo braced himself on the headboard of the bed, using the leverage to thrust harder and faster into Sanzo's ass.

His body tightened as the pleasure became too much, one hand gripping the bed's cover and the other flying quickly over his throbbing cock.

"_Gojyo!"_ He couldn't hold back the moaned name as his dick jerked, spilling spurts of come onto his hand and shirt. Hand slowing, Sanzo felt his hips grind in slow circles as he rode out his orgasm, breath coming in hard and short pants.

Lazily raising his hand and looking at the whitish mess coating his fingers, Sanzo frowned despite the post-orgasmic lethargy and satisfaction he was feeling. He'd come while thinking about being fucked, by _Gojyo_ of all people, and he'd almost been begging for more. Sanzo had _never_ been the bottom, and he didn't think that he'd had any urge to start.

_Especially_ with a whore like Gojyo.

Not that it mattered. Gojyo wasn't going to be doing _anything _to him anymore. It had been occasionally fun while it had lasted, but the little 'fling' was over.

He could easily find a continuous line of other people to service him just as well as Gojyo had; and _they_ probably wouldn't cause as many problems.

Languidly sitting up, Sanzo wiped his hand on his shirt before pulling the material off his body, balling it up and throwing it in the corner. That was as far as he got before his body gave out, pulling him back into the mattress for some long-awaited sleep.

It didn't take much time at all before Sanzo was dead to the world, his vague dreams tinted red and bronze.

* * *

The following afternoon, the blonde was banging impatiently on the door of a large, lavish-looking house. He vaguely recognised the place from when he would have been about eleven years old, Sanzo having brought him to see the man who led this city's major criminal organisation. That man was dead now, but his son had inherited the position and maintained the stranglehold on the city.

If he remembered correctly, the man's son had been nine or ten years older than the young Kouryuu, placing him in his early thirties now. The phone call he'd made to the son on the way back from the hospital was the first contact the pair had had since that first meeting, but after identifying himself Sanzo had been greeted like a valued friend.

It wasn't a sentiment he had returned.

Raising his hand to bang at the door once more, Sanzo paused when the wood squeaked open. A well-muscled man stood in the open portal, scowling fiercely.

"State your business," he growled out.

Sanzo wasn't intimidated in the least, as per usual. His bored tone caused the guard's eyebrow to quirk slightly. "Sanzo. Here for Yakumo."

The man gave a single nod, promptly closing the door in Sanzo's face. Luckily enough for the health of everyone in the general area, Sanzo wasn't kept waiting long and the door soon reopened. Standing there was a dark-haired man with oddly high sideburns, a calculating look in his eyes.

Sanzo stared right back at the man, vaguely trying to reconcile the man standing before him with the youth from his memory. Before he came to a conclusion, though, a large hand was extended towards him.

"Well, I'll be. You still look just as pissy as you used to, Kouryuu."

Sanzo scowled at the use of the name he hadn't heard spoken in many years; he didn't need to go back through the memories of that time. Not making any move to shake the offered hand, he crossed his arms over his chest and spoke in a haughty tone. "Sanzo. It's Sanzo."

Not looking the least bit awkward, Yakumo ran the ignored hand through his hair and smirked a little. "Nice choice. He was a good man."

"Tch." Sanzo didn't care to hear it. _No one_ really knew what the older Sanzo had been like, apart from his adopted son. He wasn't about to try and make them understand, though.

"So, you want a job? I've got one that just opened up, actually. One of my guys got his heart cut out in a back alley. You do the same shit Sanzo- your father, I mean- did, right?"

Killing. Yakumo wanted to know if Sanzo could turn a gun or a knife against another person; or secretly poison them; or blow up their houses and cars; or just snap their necks with his own two hands.

Of course he could.

"Stupid question," Sanzo grunted. He didn't elaborate, and Yakumo looked a little confused before he shook his head, laughing softly. "You never did say much back then. You should fit right into the, ah, position; come in and we'll go over some details."

Nodding slowly, Sanzo stalked past Yakumo and inside the large house, missing the way his new employer's eyes travelled up and down his body before lingering on his denim-clad ass, a leering smile curling the older man's lips.


	34. Chapter 34: We Fume

*******Well, shit. I'm getting sloppy: in the last chapter, I used 'Koumyou' when I should have used 'Kouryuu'. I knew which one I meant, but…it's fixed now. Damn them and their too-similar names…*******

* * *

Sanzo sat rigidly in one of Yakumo's leather-upholstered chairs, too wary of the situation to allow himself any degree of relaxation. He didn't particularly enjoy being in other people's houses; the territory was simply too unknown, and the man's sitting room had too many windows for Sanzo's liking.

He wanted to leave, and he wanted it _now_. But he needed this job: he couldn't support himself for too long on his savings alone. A legitimate job was out of the question, of course.

"So, Ko…_Sanzo_, what've you been up to all these years?" Yakumo looked like he was practically sinking into his own chair across from the blonde, his feet resting casually on a well-polished coffee table.

Sanzo looked up, sighing in disgust. "This _isn't_ a social call."

Yakumo held both hands up, trying to calm the suddenly-angry blonde. It didn't work.

"C'mon, man, is it a crime to wanna know how you've been doing? Why you suddenly called me up out of the blue, pretty much _demanding_ a job?"

"That's none of your business," Sanzo snapped. Narrowing his eyes, he tracked the older man's movements for any sign of impending violence. It was a natural habit, picked up from years of dealing with Dokugakuji.

Yakumo looked momentarily taken aback, his body tensing, but he soon relaxed into the chair again. If Kouryuu had _half_ the skill he remembered the elder Sanzo having, then he didn't want to chase the blonde off now. "Well, I s'pose that everyone has their shady pasts. But _shit_, Sanzo, whatever happened to the quiet little cutie who barely wanted to leave his daddy's side?"

It had been so long since Sanzo had met someone who knew his past…Yakumo's teasing words drove the blonde over the edge, his temper snapping completely. Face contorting in a snarl, Sanzo slammed his fist onto the coffee table with enough force to make Yakumo's feet jump slightly.

"He died when his father did!" Yelling angrily, the blonde jerked to his feet and began storming from the room. He vaguely registered footsteps running up behind him, and as he reached for the door to the hall a strong hand clamped around his wrist.

Growling, Sanzo struggled to pull away as his arm was drawn behind him, the other immediately pinned to his body when Yakumo's free arm slipped across the middle of his torso.

Sanzo's skin was flushed red from his anger, breath coming fast as he tried to free his arms and get away. He didn't like thinking about his childhood, and he _definitely_ didn't like being touched. His skin was _crawling_ where Yakumo's arm was wound around him, and a shiver of revulsion ran through him.

"Don't _fucking_ touch me! I'll kill you!"

"Yeah, you probably would. And now I want you working for me even more, so sit your ass back down and we'll talk business. Nothing else." The fingers around Sanzo's wrist tightened as his struggling increased, sweat beading on his forehead. He was starting to feel the slightest bit claustrophobic, which was utterly _ridiculous_ in such an open and well-lit room.

"I'm sorry. I won't mention it again; just calm down, babe, and we won't have…"

The familiar- but unwelcome- endearment made Sanzo's heart stop for a second, and the arm around his body suddenly felt lighter, less bulky but still just as strong.

'_Gojyo,'_ his mind supplied, and the hold immediately seemed a lot less binding and a _lot_ more sexual. Another shiver of revulsion from the thought of doing _that_ with Yakumo gave Sanzo the motivation he needed to wrench his wrist free, his heart pounding as he twisted away from the older man's now-empty hand and reached for his gun.

Turning as much as he could with an arm still around his torso, Sanzo shoved the barrel of the revolver into the first part of Yakumo he could: the man's stomach.

"You have _no_ right to call me that. Do it again and I'll shoot your stomach out and then force-feed it back to you!"

The arm around his waist promptly drew away, and from the corner of his eye Sanzo saw Yakumo raise both hands in surrender. Turning around fully, the blonde steadied his gun and watched as the older man's face dissolved into confusion. "…You don't like being called 'mate'?"

"What?" Snarling, Sanzo lifted his arms to aim directly at Yakumo's forehead. The man's dark eyes widened, but his voice didn't waver.

"I said, 'calm down, mate'…what did you _think_ it was?"

"Don't fuck with me," the blonde snapped. He didn't _mishear_; he wouldn't have made such a stupid mistake. Yakumo was lying to him on top of being an asshole.

"Sanzo. Put the gun _down_. Kill me, and my men will be on your ass like stink on shit." Yakumo lowered his hands, shoving them into his pockets, and relaxed his posture. "I'm not scared of you, so turn yourself around and sit back down. Or, I guess you can leave and find someone else to work for."

Sanzo's eye twitched repeatedly as he slowly lowered the revolver, fighting the urge to either pull the trigger and blow Yakumo's face off or just _throw_ the damn thing at him. As much as the blonde didn't want to admit it, he _needed_ the work. He had to make a complete new start, and he needed to make the most of the contacts he had.

Offering no explanation for his behaviour, Sanzo stashed the gun back into his jeans and stomped back to his seat. He made sure to avoid any physical contact with the older man as he passed: he wasn't the least bit convinced that Yakumo had called him 'mate' rather than 'babe'.

The two sounded fairly different, after all.

"Well? What are you waiting for, a fucking fanfare introduction? I have other things to do today!" Sanzo jabbed his finger onto the coffee table, glaring at his future employer.

The other man just shrugged, leisurely wandering back before reclining in his chair again. Sanzo shook his head in dismay, body nearly screaming for a relaxing hit of nicotine. _'Idiots…I'm __**still**__ surrounded by idiots…'_

* * *

Dokugakuji was still keeping watch by his brother's bedside, attempting to conduct business from the hospital as best as he possibly could. It was unsettling, trying to act as if nothing was wrong when all he could see was his brother's still body; but he couldn't leave Gojyo alone.

He couldn't risk losing the boy…_man_ again.

Doku was finding it difficult to remind himself that Gojyo wasn't a child anymore.

"I can do that."

It took him a second to remember what the voice on the other end of the phone was agreeing to. When he did bring himself back to the present, though, he couldn't help but scowl. "Good. Make it quick and quiet; a runaway situation would be the best cover."

Hanging up the phone, Doku absently spun the small device between his fingers. After a lot of subtle asking around, he had finally found out the reason for Gojyo's overdose and who the responsible nurse was.

He gave it two days before a missing person report was filed for her.

Normally, Dokugakuji would _never_ have targeted a stupid young woman so coldheartedly. But she'd nearly killed his brother; she couldn't be allowed to go without punishment for her idiocy. It was a matter of principle.

He hadn't become the leader of a rather profitable crime organisation through _forgiveness_, in the end.

The man was just putting the phone back in his pocket when the room door suddenly flung open. The doctors and nurses were generally quiet, and tended to knock first; suspicion had Dokugakuji on his feet instantly as a man with dirty-blonde hair and a trashy coat burst into the room.

Doku didn't relax when the new arrival ignored him completely, instead walking over to Gojyo and pulling his unresponsive body up by the hair.

"Doesn't this lazy little shit realise that some of us have _businesses_ to run?"

"Hey! Get your filthy hands off him, asshole!" Doku took a few steps towards the other two, hand reaching out to break the blonde man's arm for attempting to hurt Gojyo. The movement stilled when Gojyo's hair was abruptly released, the man spinning around to face Doku.

"Do you _know_ who you're speaking to? Not that I have time for this shit. Just tell Gojyo that if he's not back at work within a week, I'll finish what Hazel started."

The blonde let out a strained yelp as he was suddenly shoved back against the wall, a hand twisting in his shirt while a handgun was pressed into his side.

"H-hey! What the Hell, man?"

"You'd better _explain_ that, you filthy fuck. Work? Hazel? _Talk._" Doku narrowed his eyes. Something about this man looked…familiar…

"I don't have to explain anything to you. I _own_ this piece of ass, so don't even think about getting involved. I'm not about to give away my biggest money maker."

Utterly confused, Doku pulled the man off the wall and slammed him back, watching and _enjoying_ the wince of pain on the man's face. What did this man know about the injuries that seemed to litter Gojyo's entire body? "You _own_ him?"

Despite the situation he was in, the unknown man didn't lose his stuck-up attitude. "That's right. I'm the one who gets the profits from that sweet ass. It's only the best for Zakuro."

A sick sensation overcame Dokugakuji as realisation hit, and his hands began to shake. He knew why the man looked vaguely familiar…but Gojyo couldn't have…he _wouldn't…_

"You…you were Banri's replacement, weren't you." His voice low and dangerous, Doku released the other man's shirt while still pressing the gun hard against the man's side. "_Answer me!"_

"Yeah. That's right." His voice was still cocky, but Zakuro's eyes were flicking around the room, giving away how nervous he was. "And I'm not going to give you this particular whore, so fuck off before Zakuro gets _mad_."

Doku's free hand lashed out, connecting with the pimp's jaw and slamming his head back into the wall. "Do _not_ talk about my brother like that!"

Zakuro gasped through the pain, pressing a hand to his jaw as his eyes went impossibly wide. "You _hit_ me! How dare you do such a thing!"

Doku just snarled, his clenched fist rearing back for another punch. Zakuro flinched, but his gaze flicked back to Doku's face as his mouth dropped open. "You…I know who you are! You're…oh, _fuck_, don't kill me. Please!"

Completely disregarding the gun pressed into his torso, Zakuro dropped to his knees with his head bowed.

"I'm sorry…I'm sorry, Mr Dokugakuji…I didn't know he was your brother…I'm sorry!"

Doku's stomach was still rolling from disgust. Gojyo was _whoring_ himself? For one of Kougaiji's guys? How long had this been going on right underneath his nose? Oh God, he was a failure of a brother for letting Gojyo get into such a thing…

Dropping the arm with the handgun, Doku turned away from the quivering wreck on the floor. The blonde was still babbling, but Dokugakuji didn't face him again.

"Get the fuck out of here if you want to live. _Never_ come near my brother again, you hear me?"

Zakuro began to stutter something, but the sound of Doku cocking his gun had a flurry of movement coming from the room's entrance. Walking up to the opposite wall, the elder Sha turned and hit the plaster, sliding gracelessly to the floor.

Screwing his eyes shut, he dropped the gun to the floor and put his head in his hands. Why would Gojyo start selling himself? Was he on drugs, like most of the whores that Doku had ever met?

And what did Hazel have to do with all this? Hakkai still hadn't gotten him a report on the loanshark's current activity…now he wanted it more than ever.

He couldn't leave Gojyo here. Hazel was literally insane; if he truly had something to do with Gojyo's injuries, then he might just come back. The redhead needed to be moved.

Hitting the button to call a nurse, Doku pulled out his cell phone and began to dial. He had room at his estate for Gojyo to be taken care of properly, and it was safer than this public hospital. The drop-ins of Hakkai and Zakuro had shown just how insecure this place was.

He needed to make Gojyo's recovery as easy as possible. It was the least he could do.

* * *

Sanzo was still at Yakumo's estate, attempting to negotiate a ridiculously inflated rate for any hits he was going to pull. The older man was nursing a beer, but Sanzo had immediately declined the offer of alcohol: he was still suspicious of Yakumo from earlier, and he clearly remembered what had happened the day he had visited Gojyo for information and ended up getting more intoxicated than he'd intended.

"Are you kidding me? _No one_ gets that much."

"The sub-par might not, but you're paying for the best." Raising an eyebrow, Sanzo leant back in his chair and pulled out a cigarette. When Yakumo made no immediate move to stop him, he lit it and took a deep drag.

"Hey! You're no good to me if you're dying of lung cancer!" Yakumo pointed accusingly in Sanzo's direction, expression not convincingly angry. With a dismissive look in the older man's direction, Sanzo inhaled again and blew the smoke across at Yakumo.

"If I live long enough to die of cancer, then I'll take a pay cut. For now, give me what I want and we won't have any problems."

"…Yeah, I've already seen what happens when _you_ get mad. I'll think about it, so come back tomorrow and we'll talk terms."

Smugly satisfied, Sanzo got to his feet. "Well then, if we're done here...?"

Yakumo jumped from his seat, swaying slightly from the alcohol he had consumed over the past hour. "Are you _sure_ you want to go?"

Sanzo blinked in confusion. "I don't tend to keep company. I'm leaving."

"C'mon, Kouryuu…there might be something you can do to _earn_ that pay…"

When a bullet singed one of his sideburns, Yakumo fell straight to the floor, alcohol dulling his reflexes and coordination. Sanzo tucked the gun away again, stepping over the fallen body on the way to the door.

"I will _not_ sleep with you, and _never_ say that name again. Kouryuu doesn't exist anymore."

Fuming, he pushed past the guards who had come running at the sound of the gun and slammed out the front door. He ignored the shouting behind him, walking directly to the 'borrowed' car that he needed to dump as soon as possible.

The _nerve_ of the bastard, hitting on him like that. As if he would ever whore himself like that; he was _better_ than prostitution. It was a disgusting thing to do.

'_Then why can you bed Gojyo so easily? He's nothing more than a whore.'_

"Oh, _fuck_ you," Sanzo growled to the overcast sky.

Gojyo was part of the past. Whatever Sanzo had done with him was finished; the redhead had no impact on Sanzo's life anymore.

None of it mattered.

* * *

*******The only thing I thought when I typed the words 'sweet ass':

Joey- "What does he have that I don't have? Aside from the fangirls…and the pretty hair…and those _gorgeous _green eyes…"

Duke- "Don't forget my sweet ass."

Joey- "Yeah, and a sweet ass. But other than that, he's got nothin'."*******


	35. Chapter 35: I Suppress

Sanzo slipped between gyrating bodies, squinting against the flashing lights of the club. There was something awfully familiar about this situation…

But this time, he wasn't there for observation. This was his first assignment from Yakumo, and he'd been tailing some anonymous man from place to place, waiting for the perfect opportunity to take the man down. Usually he would've just shot the guy and been done with it, but his new bastard of a boss had put _conditions_ on the job.

The blonde had been handed a sealed vial of cyanide salts and told to 'make it subtle'. Not really one of his strong points, but Yakumo had agreed to pay whatever Sanzo wanted as long as his terms were met.

It wasn't like Sanzo had never offed a guy with this kind of method, after all. It just wasn't his usual style. He preferred the more definite way of shooting someone in the face until their brains were sitting on the pavement.

Sanzo smirked a little when his target stopped at the club's bar, leaning impatiently on the wood as he tried to get the bartender's attention. The woman was thoroughly ignoring him, too focused on flirting with a redheaded man to bother with serving. Glancing at the redhead, Sanzo snorted. The man's colouring was tacky and _obviously_ fake.

He was downright ugly. Just like everyone else Sanzo had seen in this shithole of a city.

When his target slapped his palm on the bar, frustrated at being ignored by the server, Sanzo knew that he had the perfect opportunity to strike. When the man eventually got his drink, he'd be too wound up to pay proper attention to his surroundings.

He wouldn't be watching the drink in his hand, anyway. It was only the women who were worried about being spiked, not arrogant gang members who thought the sun shone out their ass.

Sanzo watched as the bartender turned towards his target, annoyance clear on her face. It was obvious, even from the blonde's position away from the bar, that she was serving up the drink with more aggression than was probably necessary. A little of the booze splashed onto the wood of the bar when it was roughly placed before Sanzo's target, and he in turn slapped his money down, scowling as he spun around.

Knowing it was now or never, Sanzo began walking after the man, slowly catching up from behind. The idiot was holding his drink slightly off to the side of his body, head tilted in the opposite direction as he presumably caught sight of some scantily-dressed skank.

Slipping the small vial into his hand from his pocket, the blonde quickly released the seal and walked up right behind his target. In one quick motion, he overtook the man, subtly upending the entire container into the drink.

So as to cover his tracks, Sanzo made sure to hit his elbow into the man's arm. That way, the man would probably jolt his arm in annoyance, sloshing his drink and effectively mixing the cyanide into the booze.

As expected, the man whirled around, looking at the slightly-spilled glass before throwing the contents down his throat and tossing the empty plastic cup to the ground.

"Wha' the fuck, asshole?" He yelled as Sanzo veered off to the side, disappearing into the crowd without looking back. The blonde tucked his hand into the pocket of his tight jeans, not wanting to risk any exposure to cyanide residue before he could wash it off. Heading straight for the club's entrance, he stepped out into the night.

He wouldn't be able to stick around and see if the man died; he wasn't going to risk being caught like that. The police in this city might not be so willing to overlook gang activity.

Sanzo walked down the street, dodging through the club-going crowd and being sure to keep his hand in his pocket. Once he'd found somewhere to safely wash, he'd call Yakumo and tell him that the job had been done.

The man had insisted that Sanzo get a new cell phone, despite the blonde's vehement protests. After all, he couldn't keep using his old number: that would be an utterly _idiotic _thing to do. Sanzo was technically a man on the run, and so he had to maintain a degree of caution about what he did.

Finally coming across a public bathroom that didn't seem _too _filthy, Sanzo set about thoroughly cleaning his skin of any poisonous traces. Satisfied, he dried off and rejoined the still-strong crowd on the streets.

The weather was unnaturally warm tonight. The general dress code in the area seemed to be trying to test the limits of public decency laws; if Sanzo had actually been paying attention to those around him, he would have seen bare skin everywhere he turned.

But he wasn't. He truly couldn't have cared less about the seemingly endless throng of barely-dressed idiots around him, and so took in no more than where the easiest path through the crowd was. He was too lost in his thoughts to notice anything else.

The weather, combined with the fact that he'd spent half his night in clubs and bars, was sending him back to a night he would rather have forgotten. He didn't _want_ to recall the way his heart rate had picked up at seeing a certain gorgeous man…the way he hadn't wanted to leave until he'd seen what the redhead was barely concealing in those pants.

They were all just memories of something that didn't matter, of _someone_ that didn't matter. None of the time that he'd spent with Gojyo mattered anymore; and neither did the pleasure, the irritation, the amusement, the anger or the _worry_ that the redhead had made Sanzo feel.

It didn't matter that the only recent recollections he had of feeling anything other than annoyance were related to Gojyo. Sanzo assumed he would simply return to _not_ feeling now that Gojyo was out of his life.

Ducking into an alleyway and lighting a cigarette, Sanzo tried to force himself to believe his thoughts.

However, he couldn't quieten down the part of him that wanted to go home, beat the shit out of Dokugakuji, and then beat the shit out of Gojyo until he opened his eyes and said something typically stupid. And then probably kis-…

'_**No**__.'_ Throwing his cigarette down in disgust, Sanzo pulled out his new cell and dialled Yakumo. Even having the man possibly hit on him was better than being alone with his thoughts: at least if the bastard tried to pull something, Sanzo would have the chance to let out some of the aggression that was building up.

Because he didn't want, need or _miss_ Gojyo. He just…

He just…

* * *

Doku was pacing up and down the hallway of his large home, continually passing the room that Gojyo had been moved into earlier. He felt a _little_ better, knowing that Gojyo was safer here than in the open hospital, but there wasn't much he could feel good about right now.

The longer Gojyo slept, the smaller his chances of waking up again became. Doku couldn't help but wonder whether the universe had it out for him: giving him back his brother, only to take the redhead away before they could _truly_ meet again.

Actually, it sounded like something karma would do in retribution for the life he led.

Doku knew that he would give it all up if only it meant that Gojyo would wake up. The money, the power, the _possessions_…as long as he could talk to his brother again, like he had so many years earlier, he would leave it all behind.

Well…as long as he had enough to ensure that Gojyo never again had to lower himself to _prostitution_.

Feeling the bile rise in his throat, Dokugakuji stopped moving and placed his hand on his chest. He still didn't entirely believe what that filthy pimp had said, but…

A shudder ran through him, and for a second he thought that he might actually have been about to vomit.

The feeling disappeared, though, when he heard someone clear their throat behind him. Whirling around to see who was interrupting, Dokugakuji tried to keep himself looking presentable. It wouldn't do to show weakness too much, even now.

He was startled to see Hakkai standing just outside the door to Gojyo's room, hands clasped neatly in front of him and expression not giving away any hints as to how well Doku was keeping himself contained.

"How did you…actually, I don't think I even wanna ask how you continually get past security. It's one of your more valuable traits, but I wish you wouldn't do it to _me_."

"You may want to hire some new men, Dokugakuji. These ones took surprisingly little convincing." Hakkai barely seemed to move when he spoke, his lips opening only slightly. It was disconcerting.

"I s'pose you're probably right," Doku agreed. It was just so damn _hard_ to find decent guys…but he had other things to worry about. "Anyway, what d'you want?"

Hakkai's smile immediately dropped, his face taking on a blank neutrality that gave Doku some idea about what he was going to say. "I located Hazel Grosse at his estate…or what was left of him."

Dokugakuji's eyes widened as he came to the inevitable conclusion. "Someone managed to _kill_ that lucky son of a bitch? Who?"

"I truly don't know. When I found him, he had obviously been dead for a while. It doesn't look like an average hit, though." When he'd found where Sanzo had left the body, Hakkai had taken a moment to admire the sheer amount of _effort_ the blonde had put into torturing Hazel. He'd certainly done a very…_thorough_ job.

"Really? What condition was the body in?" Doku crossed his arms, fingers biting into his forearms. Hazel had apparently had something to do with Gojyo's life, but…he was probably worth more alive than dead. Even if it was just so that Doku could kill the loanshark himself. Apparently, though, someone had beaten him to the punch.

"His face was nearly beaten to the point of being unrecognisable; it was only the outfit and location of the body that allowed for identification. As far as I could tell, there were bullets in his wrist and neck; and judging by the location of a large amount of blood, I would say that he had been castrated as well."

Doku let out a low whistle, wondering just what kind of person could get enough of a jump on Hazel and Gat to be able to manage something like that. Actually, on that train of thought…

"And Gat? Was there any sign of him?"

"None at all."

Doku's mind immediately jumped to two different scenarios. Either someone had managed to take out _both_ Gat and Hazel, or…Gat had been the one to kill Hazel. The second option seemed more likely: it would have taken someone _very_ skilled to kill Gat, and although there had often been whispers of the loanshark maintaining more than just a professional relationship with his bodyguard…it was still possible that Gat had truly snapped.

Not that it really mattered. Hazel was dead, and Doku _still_ had bigger things to worry about.

"Interesting. I guess that a lot of people will benefit from now being out of debt." Doku was trying to wrap up the conversation; he wanted to go and sit with Gojyo again. He was barely game to let his brother out of his sight.

"Indeed." Hakkai smiled again, and it seemed to Doku that he was waiting for something in his usual polite fashion. He could easily guess what it was.

"I s'pose you heard that I had Gojyo moved here?"

Hakkai nodded briefly. "It makes sense that you would prefer to keep a close eye on him yourself. Do you have your regular doctor looking after him?"

"Yeah, he's in there now. You wanna see him? Not much has changed, but he's starting to look a bit less beaten." When Doku got his hands on whoever had caused all those bruises, they were going to wish that they were dead. Hell, if he could he would go back and slaughter every person who had _ever_ touched Gojyo.

Including his mother, all over again.

"Oh, if you wouldn't mind, Dokugakuji. I have heard that it's beneficial for comatose patients to have interaction around them, after all."

Smiling slightly at the way Hakkai had played him, Doku walked over to the converted bedroom and opened the door, greeting his doctor. "How is he?"

The man flicked through several pages of notes, brow furrowing as he concentrated. "His heart rate has picked up slightly, but there aren't any other changes. That doesn't tend to signify anything, though."

Doku sighed and nodded, seating himself in the chair by the bed and gesturing for Hakkai to join him. "I'll talk to you later, then."

"Certainly." The man walked out the door, leaving Hakkai and Doku to their own devices. There was a moment of silence as Hakkai looked Gojyo over, face tightening slightly at the still-present injuries.

"You were right, he is most definitely beginning to look better. Some of these cuts and bruises should be completely gone in a few days."

Doku was in no mood for idle talk, and so he made no response. Instead, he tried to verbalise a question that had gradually been forming since Sanzo had flipped out in the hospital corridor.

"Hakkai…what do you know about the…_relationship_ between Sanzo and my brother?"

The brunette seemed caught off guard by the question, but he hid his uncertainty quickly. He took his time to find a proper answer, Doku intently watching Hakkai's expression for hidden clues that really weren't there.

"It was short, but…they were _intense_, as I suppose one could put it."

"Intense? How?"

"…One evening, Gojyo found himself in an_ altercation_. Sanzo nearly killed the man in retaliation."

Doku gave a sharp intake of breath, his hand subconsciously reaching over to run through Gojyo's long hair. "But…Sanzo _never_ gets involved in other people's shit. He just doesn't give a fuck."

Hakkai's eyes met Doku's, the younger man trapping his employer in a mesmerising stare.

"I know."

* * *

Gojyo thought that he could hear voices. They were faint and he had no idea what they were saying, but he definitely thought that they were voices.

Trying to open his eyes, he found that his body was refusing to respond to commands. He experimented with trying to move an arm, a leg, his neck; nothing. He couldn't move, and the concept was terrifying.

His breathing slowly picked up, and although he wanted to force himself into calming down, it just wasn't happening. The faint voices paused, and he vaguely felt a hand moving through his hair.

At least, he _thought_ he did.

Focusing hard, he tried again to open his eyes. This time, he felt his lids lift ever so slightly; the minimal progress was enough to encourage him. Trying for a third time, he felt light slowly flood into his vision, hurting his brain.

Gradually, the light began to take on blurry forms, and the hand sitting in his hair became less distant and more apparent. _God_, he must have had a lot to drink to feel like this…

Moving his eyes slightly to the side, Gojyo saw what could have been a person next to him. That seemed to be where the hand was coming from…but who was it?

"Sanzo?" He tried to say, but his mouth didn't want to move. Concentrating hard again, he forced his lips to form the only name he could currently come up with.

"Sanzo…" This time the word came out, but it was in a nearly unintelligible rasp that sent an ache right down Gojyo's throat. He'd never felt this bad in his life…

The voices began again, and this time Gojyo could make out most of what was being said.

"Did he just…Sanzo?"

"Keep talking to…it might help…bring him back."

"Gojyo, can you hear me?"

By this point, Gojyo's vision was returning to the point where he could make out the basic features of the person next to him. The dark haired man didn't look familiar, and so he shifted his eyes towards the source of the second voice.

He couldn't be sure, but it seemed that this second person was…

"'Kai?"

His voice was still painfully weak, throat dry and rasping. It was almost embarrassing to listen to.

"Yes, I'm here, Gojyo." Knowing that the man was there sent relief through Gojyo; he wasn't sure of much, but he knew he was safe with Hakkai. He wouldn't feel entirely calm until he found out one other thing, though…

"Sanzo…where…?"

The stranger sounded like he'd gasped, but Gojyo ignored it. He wanted to see Sanzo…he wanted to know that the man was okay…

"I'm sorry, Gojyo…he's not here…"

An ache blossomed in Gojyo's chest, and he wanted nothing more than to go to sleep. A deep sigh came from the other side of him, and he shifted his eyes back to the unknown man.

"Gojyo…it really is you. I don't believe it…"

Gojyo's first thought was that the man's outline looked like Banri, and he tried to get his unresponsive body to move away. That was ridiculous, though….he couldn't exactly remember why, but Banri couldn't be there…

"Who…?" His voice was a little stronger, but it was still impossible for him to form the words he wanted. He just hoped that one word was enough to convey his question.

A bitter laugh came from the man, and Gojyo immediately thought that it sounded like the man was hurting inside. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you don't recognise me…it's been thirteen years, after all."

Trying to focus his vision properly, Gojyo desperately wanted to get a decent look at the man. It _couldn't_ be…could it?

"_Jien?"_


	36. Chapter 36: He Worries

*******I'm sorry, I swear that I don't take so long to write out of some sick sense of tension building. I'm just really busy at the moment. I want to know where this is going just as much as you guys do!*******

* * *

Struggling to lift himself onto his arms, Gojyo groaned when he could barely make it an inch from the mattress. He couldn't see the man's face from this angle, but he _had _to know.

He had to know if it really was Jien.

"Hakkai, go get the doctor," the quiet, unfamiliar voice said. A noise of agreement and footsteps came from Gojyo's blindside, but he couldn't move his eyes from the slightly-blurred man sitting next to him. Breathing hard, Gojyo tried once more to lift himself up, only this time a large hand came to rest gently on his shoulder.

"Don't push yourself. Yeah, bro, it's me…" The hand tightened gently, a reassuring gesture, and Gojyo felt himself relax into the mattress. It was…he was…_Jien…_

Shakily lifting his hand to rest it over Jien's, Gojyo stopped when he saw the bandages criss-crossing his fingers. As if he'd suddenly come to a realisation, his eyes darted around the room.

"This…doesn't look like hospital?"

"That's because it isn't, Gojyo. You're…at my home."

A warm feeling exploded in Gojyo's chest, filling him with heat as a small smile pulled at his lips. Jien had found him…taken him home…looked after him…

…_wait_…

"When did you move me? I don't remember it…" Frowning slightly, Gojyo tried to recall the last thing that had happened to him. He only vaguely noted the lack of pain as his expression changed, mind whirring on more important things. He could faintly remember feeling painfully sick…but whether that was a dream or reality, he wasn't entirely sure.

"Gojyo…you were in a coma for almost a week. They overdosed you on morphine."

"I _what_?" Gojyo gasped, his voice dissolving in a dry cough. His body shuddered in pain, but he forced himself to breathe through the hacking. When he was calm, he lifted his undamaged hand to his face, feeling for the cuts and swelling that he knew should be there.

They weren't.

His nose barely hurt as he prodded gently at it, and his lips felt whole once again. A _week?_ He'd been asleep for a week?

But that thought was shoved aside as the gentle weight on his shoulder disappeared. Shifting slightly in the bed, Gojyo tried his best to get a proper look at Jien.

"How…how did you find me?" The man had practically appeared out of nowhere; there was so much that Gojyo wanted to know, and he cursed his body for being so goddamned _weak_.

The older man obviously saw the redhead's struggles, and he shifted his chair with a slight screech so that he was in Gojyo's line of vision. "That better?"

Relaxing his neck, Gojyo swiped at his eyes with his good hand and tried to force his eyes into focusing properly. Finally, after what felt like an aeon of silence, the man before him was clear as day. Gojyo couldn't help the hitch in his breath; it _was_ Jien. The man was a lot older, and his hair was shorter than it had been back in the day…

But it was, without a doubt, his older brother. The redhead smiled widely, his facial muscles feeling stiff from dormancy but not hurting in the way he knew they should have been.

"Much better. But _how_? How did you…?"

There was a slight pause, and Gojyo could have sworn that something dark flashed across his brother's face before the older man looked down into his eyes. "Sanzo."

"You know my beautiful blonde bastard? Wha-…"

"Dokugakuji." The quiet, polite voice cut off Gojyo's question, and the redhead gathered that Hakkai had come back with the doctor that Jien had asked for.

"I'll take it from here, Doku." Gojyo lifted an eyebrow when his brother nodded at the doctor's statement; what did Hakkai and the doctor mean by 'Dokugakuji' and 'Doku'? The name was Jien.

And he _still_ didn't really know how Jien had found him…

Unfortunately, Jien and Hakkai quietly left the room as the doctor walked over to the bed. Gojyo almost wanted to ask them to stay, but he thought better of it: he already seemed completely weak. There was no need to act as if he couldn't handle being left with a stranger for a few minutes.

Hell, he'd done a _lot_ worse with strangers than just getting prodded a couple of times and asked a few questions.

Not that he was planning on telling Jien _anything_ about that. It wasn't that he was ashamed, or anything, but…he wasn't sure if he could take his brother reacting the same way that Sanzo had.

'_Speaking of which, I wonder when that pissy bitch is going to turn up and yell some more…'_

* * *

Doku and Hakkai stood in the hallway, talking quietly beyond the closed door of Gojyo's room.

"Hakkai, he's going to want to know about Sanzo. What am I going to _tell_ him?" The older man ran a hand roughly through his hair, fingers tightening at the end before his arm fell back to his side.

Hakkai adjusted his glasses, regarding his boss with his usual calm rationality. "As I see it, you have three choices. You can allow Sanzo to live and return; you can inform Gojyo that he has simply disappeared; or you can act as if Sanzo has died."

Dokugakuji sighed, his heart almost breaking for his brother. "You know that I can't take the hit back now. The minute I do, someone will realise that I have a weakness and try to either find out what it is, or just off me completely. You know how cut-throat this business is; I can't put Gojyo in that position. I know that it's not the right thing to do, but…I can't risk Gojyo's life like that."

"Then you have two choices."

"I need you to answer me truthfully, Hakkai. Will Gojyo break if he thinks that Sanzo is dead?" Doku dropped his gaze to the ground, tracing a slight scratch on the gleaming floorboards. _Why_ did Gojyo have to fall for Sanzo, of all people? This would all be so much more simple without the blonde coming into the equation…

A tense silence fell upon the two men, Hakkai waiting until Doku lifted his eyes to speak. When he knew that he had the older man's full attention, Hakkai frowned minutely.

"Yes."

* * *

"So how are you feeling, Gojyo?" The doctor had finished with his basic inspection, setting a notepad aside after writing a few things down. The pad sat next to an empty cup of water, the liquid helping Gojyo to speak without such a horrid rasp in his voice.

"Like I drank six times my body weight in cheap booze. How do I look?"

The doctor's lip twitched, almost as if he was planning to return Gojyo's comment with a quip of his own; but it seemed that he reconsidered. "Your bruises are healing nicely, your lip is almost completely normal again, and although your hand will have a few small scars on it, the rest of your body should be mostly unmarked. Your knee should be pretty much healed by this point, too. How do your wrists feel?"

Gojyo lifted his right arm to his face, holding it above him as he lay down. The skin was red and slightly scratched, but there was nothing like the bloody mess he remembered having after Hazel had finished with him.

'_Hazel…did Sanzo get him?' _Gojyo shuddered a little as he remembered being bound in the loanshark's basement, pain making him black out repeatedly. Hopefully he was dead…but nothing ever seemed to go right in Gojyo's life.

He wouldn't be surprised if the bastard had somehow managed to survive.

"Usable, I s'pose…how do you think my hand is gonna be?"

The doctor frowned for a moment, thinking. "You'll find some stiffness in the fingers, particularly in the next couple of months. Nearly all of them had to be pinned, so they won't work quite as well as they used to."

"I'm a lefty; how's it going to be for writing and shit?" Gojyo let his right arm rest back down, lifting his left instead. He glared at the mass of bandages, unable to move his fingers even the slightest bit.

"You should be okay with practice."

Gojyo nodded. "Listen, man, d'you think that I could sit up? This whole laying down thing is _really_ starting to get to me."

"I don't see why not; just don't try to walk for another couple of hours, at least. I should really tell you not to move too much, but I know that you won't listen. I've been treating your brother and his men for too long to think something stupid like that."

Jien's _men_? What the fuck?

Putting that aside for the moment, Gojyo pressed his right hand into the mattress as the doctor slung a surprisingly strong arm across his back. Grunting a little, the redhead was manoeuvred into a sitting position with his back against the bed frame. "Thanks."

"It's no problem. Would you like me to send Doku and Hakkai back in?"

"Thanks," Gojyo repeated. The doctor nodded, and this time Gojyo could see him leave the room. When the other two reappeared, Gojyo noticed an odd look pass between them, as if they were sharing something secret. It made him a little suspicious, to be honest.

Hakkai was the first one to return to his normal demeanour, a smile twisting his mouth as he looked over and noticed Gojyo's new position. "All good news, I hope?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah…" Gojyo replied absently. He was too busy watching the uneasy expression that was obvious on his brother's face.

Hakkai followed the line of sight, frowning as he saw what Gojyo had been watching. He cleared his throat quietly. "Doku."

Gojyo's eyes widened as he heard the unfamiliar title again, Jien's face softening as he took his seat by the bed once again. He _had_ to know what this was all about.

"Alright, Jien. What's with the 'Doku' stuff?"

Jien's body seemed to tense slightly, and he let out a slightly awkward-sounding laugh. "That's…my name. You're the first person to call me 'Jien' in thirteen years, bro."

"I thought most people changed their names to something _easier_. You've added a fuckload of letters."

"I wasn't the one who chose it," Jien retorted with a shake of his head. "I was given it."

"Should've asked for a refund." Gojyo marvelled at how easily a repertoire had developed between himself and his brother. There was no remembered pain; he was just glad that his brother was with him. That his brother was still _alive_. "I'm gonna stick with Jien."

"You do that."

"Anyway, _Jien_, you never answered me. How d'you know Sanzo? The only other person I've ever seen him with is Hakkai. Somehow, I doubt that you guys are in the same bowling league or whatever the fuck it is that Blondie does in his spare time." Gojyo grinned when his brother laughed, the sound deep and reassuring.

"Well…Sanzo actually works for me." Doku wasn't sure how much Gojyo would know about Sanzo's profession; he assumed that it wouldn't be much, considering the blonde's tight lips. He didn't know if he was ready to explain to his brother that he'd made a fortune from killing people…not that Gojyo really had any room to judge.

Doku immediately chastised his brain for that last thought. He had _no_ idea what Gojyo's life had been like, and so he couldn't really comment on the prostitution. Especially as his brother would _never _be returning to that.

"_You're his __**boss?**_" Gojyo practically shrieked, his throat protesting the sudden increase in volume and pitch. Mouth hanging open, he stared with open disbelief at the man sitting next to him.

"Uh…yes?"

"_You_ run Bosatsu Industries?"

"Uh…yes?" Doku repeated again, wondering just how much Sanzo had actually told Gojyo. It was _unthinkable_ that the blonde would tell even his lover everything…right?

"Holy _fuck!_ My brother is a motherfucking _mob boss!"_ Gojyo knew that the expression of shock on his face was in no way flattering, but he simply couldn't get his muscles to move. Jien was…Sanzo was…

It was all too impossible.

Doku frowned, his brow knotting. Clearly, Sanzo _hadn't_ managed to keep his mouth shut. Did that mean that this _thing_ with his brother was a lot more serious that he had previously thought? Sanzo would have to trust someone pretty damned much to open up like that…

"What did Sanzo tell you? How do you know what he…what we do?"

The cold edge to Doku's voice broke Gojyo's shock, and he cleared his throat a little. "I…well…he didn't _tell_ me much. The second time we met, he practically shot Banri's cock out of my mou-…"

Trailing off, Gojyo felt his face burn with embarrassment. He _really_ didn't want to explain why he would have been blowing a pimp…

But Jien didn't seem concerned with that part of the sentence. Instead, he had turned to the room's silent occupant. "Hakkai, is he talking about the day you and Sanzo…_went after_ Banri?"

Gojyo shifted his head too, watching the brunette's thoughtful expression.

"Yes. The day that Sanzo and I dealt with Banri, Gojyo was there. Actually, I believe that it was the first time we met. Sanzo spared Gojyo, even though he was a witness."

"That violent asshole actually _let_ a witness go? Oh, fuck…"

Breathing heavily, Doku stood up and almost sent his chair tipping over. Without another word, the older man promptly left the room.

"'Kai? What…what's wrong?" Gojyo asked, his voice shaking a little. He had no idea what was going through his brother's mind; he just knew that he'd said something bad.

"I don't know, Gojyo. Are you okay by yourself for a minute or two? I should check on him." Hakkai glanced towards the open door, worry making his eyebrows draw together.

"Yeah…go see what's up. I need to give my voice a rest for a moment, anyway."

Leaning heavily against the bed frame, Gojyo sighed.

He couldn't help but feel like he'd fucked something up…as per usual.

* * *

Dokugakuji pulled his fist from the wall, wincing as the broken plaster took off shreds of his skin. Ignoring the blood beginning to trickle down his fingers, he looked up as the sound of footsteps became gradually louder.

"What do you want, Hakkai?" He growled at the other man. He didn't have the time or the patience for a sermon right now.

"I want to know why you just punched a hole in the wall."

"It's my wall," the older man spat out like a child. Hakkai tutted.

"Wilful destruction isn't like you."

"And letting a witness live isn't like Sanzo! Shit, Hakkai, this goes deeper than I thought." Doku turned, letting his body slump against the wall. "Sanzo doesn't show _anyone_ mercy…and yet, he didn't kill my brother. Someone who could've helped put him away for life."

Hakkai didn't say anything, instead simply pulling a clean tissue from his pocket and handing it to Dokugakuji for his hand. Swiping at the blood, the older man paused for a moment before continuing to speak. "Gojyo is the kind of person who always used to let his emotions control his mind. If _Sanzo _felt enough to spare Gojyo…then Gojyo probably feels it ten times as much.

"You still have to kill Sanzo, Hakkai. But I can _never _let Gojyo know that I organised it."

Hakkai watched the other man, contemplation written on his face, before he nodded slowly and deliberately.

"If you feel that's what you have to do…then I suppose I have no say."

"Just…make it quick."


	37. Chapter 37: I Drink

"I made a decision in the heat of the moment, Hakkai. It wasn't the right one, and if I could go back and change it, I wouldn't call the hit. But right now, it's Sanzo's life or Gojyo's. Sanzo is a well-known guy; it spread quickly that I've got it out for him. I call it off now and people will start digging into why. You of all people should know that I can't let _anyone_ see how much Gojyo means to me."

As soon as he said the final sentence, Dokugakuji began to regret his words. Hakkai's posture and expression didn't seem to change at all, but it was almost as if someone had started the air conditioner. The skin on the older man's arms began to goosebump, the fine hairs on the back of his neck rising; Hakkai's chilling fury was almost choking the atmosphere, even though he hadn't visibly moved a muscle.

Once again, Doku was glad that Hakkai was on _his_ side…but he might not have been for much longer if Doku didn't apologise for his frustrated words.

"…That was out of line. I'm sorry, Hakkai. I'm just worried about Gojyo, y'know? I've already fucked his life up once, and now I'm about to do it again…"

Hakkai made no reply; after staring motionlessly into his employer's eyes for several seconds, the brunette simply turned back towards Gojyo's room.

Doku winced as Hakkai retreated, the atmosphere in the hall slowly warming again as the brunette's icy rage faded away. He hadn't thought himself stupid enough to remind Hakkai of what had happened to his lover three years ago; he'd seen the results of Hakkai's 'judgement' upon an _entire_ gang, even though only a single member had been the one to assault and rape his girlfriend.

The gang had thought they could break Hakkai by defiling his reason for living; he'd assassinated a few of their men, and they had wanted revenge. Instead, they'd only cracked his sanity, and it hadn't ended well for anyone.

For the most part, Doku could pretend that Hakkai had recovered admirably from the mass murder, as well as from the suicide of his wrongfully impregnated lover that had sent him into such a horrible homicidal rage. Every so often, though, whether it was from spotting a girl who looked like Kanan or from some _idiot_ making a stupid comment like Doku just had, Hakkai seemed only a step away from snapping all over again.

Dokugakuji wanted nothing more than to pull Hakkai away from that edge permanently, but he knew there was nothing he could do. He didn't want to risk Hakkai losing it completely; Doku had sunk a _lot_ of time and money into keeping the brunette out of jail and the public eye for his rampage. He didn't think he could pull it off a second time.

Swiping once more at his still-bleeding hand, Doku walked towards the bathroom. Hakkai needed a couple of minutes to calm down; if he wanted to do that in Gojyo's presence, the older man wasn't about to intrude. Doku would just take the opportunity to clean up his cuts a bit.

Besides, he had to make sure that he wasn't going to blurt any more ridiculous shit to the wrong person.

* * *

Sanzo paced the length of his living room, reaching the end and turning to repeat the process for yet _another_ time.

He was bored out of his fucking mind.

There was only one person in this entire city that he knew, although he'd noticed that a number of people seemed to know _him_. That wasn't incredibly surprising, though, considering the amount of people who had known the older Sanzo back in the day.

The blonde wasn't about to try and make _friends_, though. He already had one of those, and one was one too many. But Gojyo probably didn't count anymore…

Shaking his head, Sanzo continued to pace. It had only been a few weeks since his happy, solitary existence had been completely screwed up by that whoring son of a bitch; and yet, now he'd only been secluded for a week and he was going crazy.

Sanzo checked his watch: it was just past two o'clock. Too early to go out and get drunk, and it didn't look like Yakumo was going to call today, either. The man hadn't had a job for Sanzo since that night at the club, and it was getting tedious to simply sit around and read.

It was almost a tempting thought to go out and use his old credit card, call people on his old cell or even get himself arrested just so that Doku would have a trail to follow. Sanzo felt that a decent shoot-out would do him the world of good.

…Well, maybe that wasn't an entirely fantastic idea. Dokugakuji would definitely send Hakkai out again, and that would quickly get messy; not to mention the fact that Hakkai had purposely spared him.

Sanzo could practically hear his father's voice once telling him that the entire underworld pretty much revolved around favours owed and collected. He would have been about twelve at the time, and Sanzo had taken it upon himself to teach Kouryuu the things he would need to know to survive the underground.

'Just in case,' the older man had said.

Less than a year later, he was dead and his young student was putting those lessons to good use. So Sanzo couldn't straight-up murder Hakkai; he had to at least give the man a chance. It was what his father had dictated.

Sanzo frowned. There was no point in remembering the past; it didn't help the present move faster, and it _certainly_ wasn't helping his mood. He had to get out; to give his mind something else to think about.

…He _did_need some new suits. Most of them were still in his old wardrobe, if the place hadn't been torched or completely ransacked by this point.

Straightening his shirt, Sanzo moved to grab his wallet and the keys to the car he had stolen and re-plated. If he took long enough, he could then go and drink himself into oblivion without feeling like a _total_ hopeless drunk.

He was just so _bored…_

* * *

Gojyo looked up as he heard footsteps approaching, smiling softly as Hakkai came into view. The brunette was _fascinating_; Gojyo knew that he could easily talk to the man for hours.

Right now, though, he just wanted to know what had made his brother leave the room so suddenly.

"Still feeling okay, Gojyo?" Hakkai walked up to the bed, his face like a smiling mask. Gojyo could've sworn that there was something slightly off about the way he was moving and speaking, but decided it was best not to comment.

"Yeah, I'm sweet. Um…how's Jien? Doku? Whatever it is these days?"

"He'll be fine. I believe he's just a bit worked up and over-exhausted; after all…we didn't know if you were going to wake up. The last few days have taken their toll on him." Hakkai sat down, spine straight, legs together and hands clasped neatly in his lap. Gojyo felt uncomfortable just _looking_ at him; the redhead was a big believer in 'proper ball space'.

"Good to hear. I still can't believe he found me…and with _Sanzo's_ help. I knew there was a reason why I like that pissy bastard; I mean, apart from his co-…" Gojyo trailed off, laughing as Hakkai blushed at what he _almost_ said.

"That's hardly appropriate, Gojyo."

The redhead smiled widely, revelling in the lack of pain in his lips. "What? I was gonna say 'his colourful view of the world.'"

"I'm sure you were," Hakkai said, amusement plain in his voice. Gojyo still thought that he could sense something wrong, though…

"Anyway, where _is_ my favourite dickhead? I'm almost beginning to miss his…colourful views." As much as he wanted to talk to Jien, Gojyo felt an urge to see Sanzo. He wanted to thank the man…for everything.

"…You see, Gojyo…"

The redhead barely heard Hakkai start talking, his eyes snapping wide as he realised something new he needed to thank Sanzo for.

"Hakkai, what happened to…to Hazel?"

Hakkai paused mid-sentence, silently thanking the universe for giving him a little more time to create a plausible excuse for Sanzo's absence. Glancing around to see if Dokugakuji had snuck up on them, the brunette leaned close to the other man.

"He's dead. I saw the body myself…but only you two and myself know that it was Sanzo. Your brother knows nothing, and it will be best if it stays that way."

Gojyo's gaze dropped, his eyes watching his hands play with the bedsheet covering him.

After a period of silence, Hakkai gently spoke up. "Gojyo? What's wrong?"

Blank red eyes looked up, seeming to stare right through the brunette. Gojyo's hands stilled, resting limply in his lap.

"I'm free…" He whispered softly, voice shaking a little. "…Sanzo…took revenge…for _me_…"

A sad smile appeared slowly across Gojyo's lips. He was barely aware of Hakkai's existence, his mind running over his last encounter with the blonde. Sanzo had been so utterly _furious_; Gojyo could still feel that the ribs the blonde had hit were less healed than the others.

But even after all that…Sanzo had actually helped him.

_Shit_, he wanted to see the blonde. He wanted to grab him and not let go until Sanzo realised just how grateful Gojyo really was. He wanted to give himself to the man; all of himself. _Anything _to make Sanzo see just how much he…

He…

He _what_? Gojyo's lips pursed in thought. How much he _cared?_ How much he needed to be looked after? How much he _wanted_ the blonde?

It was all just too fucking confusing. Gojyo shook himself out of his thoughts, realising he was still staring directly at Hakkai. The brunette's look of concern made Gojyo feel a little guilty: Hakkai didn't need to worry himself about other people's problems. He probably had shit of his own to deal with.

"Woah, zoned out there a little. Sorry, 'Kai." Gojyo smirked, trying to lighten the mood. The attempt was too weak to be effective, but he appreciated Hakkai's small smile in response all the same. The brunette was too good to him.

"Oh, it's nothing to be sorry about. I expect that you're a little tired after everything that has happened."

Gojyo decided to abandon the subject of himself. He didn't want to come across as weak, or as a whinging little bitch; it just wasn't in his nature.

"I'm good. So anyway, when can I expect Sanzo to wander in and insult the crap outta me? I still need to get him back for that little incident in the hospital."

Hakkai's eye twitched, and Gojyo frowned slightly. Something was _definitely_ up…and it probably had something to do with the blonde. Gojyo wouldn't have been surprised to hear that Sanzo had gone and done something _outrageously_ stupid…

"He's not coming back, Gojyo."

At the sound of the new voice, Gojyo's head snapped across to the doorway. Dokugakuji was leaning against the frame, one hand in his pocket and the other playing across his stubbled chin.

"…What?" Gojyo questioned, still not entirely sure if his brother had said what he _thought_ he'd heard.

"I'm sorry, Gojyo…He went on a job a few days ago, and no one's heard from him since. It…doesn't look good."

Gojyo felt the backs of his eyes begin to sting as his stomach dropped.

* * *

Sanzo had only taken four steps into the bar when he heard a voice gleefully call his name. He didn't bother suppressing his groan of annoyance, wondering if he could leave before Yakumo got to him.

"Didn't expect to see you out and about! C'mon, have a drink with us!" Sanzo side-stepped as his drunken boss attempted to sling an arm around his shoulders. Yakumo frowned when his arm met nothing but air, and he stumbled slightly.

"I would rather shoot myself in the face." Sanzo turned, starting to leave the bar; he paused, though, when Yakumo spoke again in a steady, almost sober-sounding voice.

"I might have more work for you."

Eyes narrowing, Sanzo contemplated the offer. If he got drunk enough, he could ignore the fact that he was surrounded by idiots, and more work would solve his boredom issues. Sighing deeply, he turned back.

"Fine. But you're paying."

Yakumo gave a crooked grin and gestured towards the bartender, who nodded and disappeared underneath the bar to grab something or other. Sanzo followed when the older man walked away, swaying slightly, and hoped that he hadn't just made a bad mistake.

"Everyone, this here is Sanzo. He's my new guy, and although he acts like an asshole, I'm pretty sure he's good somewhere." Yakumo waved his arms about a little, obviously trying to present the blonde to the two men and the woman sitting at the table they had just approached.

The men simply looked up and murmured their greetings, but the woman stood and extended her hand, fingers decked out with long, blood-red nails.

"Pleased to meet you, Sanzo," she purred over the buzz of background conversation, "I'm Kanzeon, but _you_ can call me whatever you'd like."

Ignoring both the offered hand and the obvious come-on, Sanzo sat beside Yakumo in the only spare seat left. He heard Kanzeon huff, and ignored that as well.

"So, Sanzo, what are ya up to?" Yakumo rested his elbow on the table, putting his chin in his hand and smiling innocently in Sanzo's direction. The blonde shuddered slightly, hoping that his drink would get there soon.

"Nothing." Yakumo clearly wasn't happy with that answer, but he didn't get a chance to press further as a bang and a yelp came from Sanzo's other side. Looking across disinterestedly, Sanzo saw that the man who had been sitting next to him was now sprawled on the ground, and Kanzeon was picking up his fallen chair and settling herself into it.

The woman reached out a pale hand to stroke down Sanzo's arm, leaning across slightly so that her sheer, low-cut top exposed most of her large chest. Sanzo brushed her hand away, staring straight ahead; he had absolutely no interest in her. He just wanted to drink.

"Playing hard-to-get, are we? Mmm, I _like_ that in a man," the woman breathed into his ear, her dark hair brushing his shoulder as she leaned in. Sanzo had to resist the urge to grab Kanzeon's face and literally push her away: one of the men may have tried to start something had he done a thing like that.

When a cool glass was placed in front of him, Sanzo immediately wrapped his fingers around it and practically poured the beer straight down his throat. He purposely hadn't eaten all afternoon, and so he knew this wasn't going to take long.

Yakumo whistled loudly, giving a drunken clap for the blonde. "Woo! My boy can _drink!_ Better get us a few more, buddy," he added for the waiter's sake.

Annoyed, Sanzo slammed his schooner back on the table with more force than necessary.

"I am not your _anything_," he hissed. "Call me that again and I won't hesitate to shove my foot so far up your ass that you'll vomit up my shoe."

"Ooh, this one's pretty _and_ dangerous, Yakumo! I think you should _definitely _keep him around." A feminine hand stroked through Sanzo's hair, those red talons scraping against his skull and pissing him off further. Taking another mouthful of beer, Sanzo turned his wrath towards the woman.

"And _you_. Don't touch me. Don't talk to me. I'm. Not. Interested."

Kanzeon didn't seem flustered in the least by Sanzo's anger, letting out a low, seductive laugh. "I could have any man in this bar. This _city_. You should be flattered, babe."

"I don't give a _fuck_."

The other two men seemed to be minding their own business, or at least simply spectating in silence. The one who had been tipped onto the floor had taken Kanzeon's vacated seat without complaint; either he was low in the organisation, or she was high. If she was just a random bar skank she wouldn't have dared to disrespect _any_ of the group's men like that.

A second drink was placed onto the table in front of Sanzo, and he quickly finished off the first. He was starting to feel a little better already: the lack of food and the speed of his drinking were going to take their toll quickly.

As long as he was aware enough to know if the idiots on either side of him tried to pull anything, Sanzo was happy.

* * *

Four drinks later, Sanzo's world was blurring enjoyably. The two anonymous men had left a few minutes earlier, and Yakumo was having some sort of argument with Kanzeon over something that Sanzo couldn't be bothered focusing on.

The older man said something particularly loudly right by Sanzo's ear, and the blonde growled in warning. Yakumo's hand slid across his back, rubbing soothingly as he spoke a quiet apology. Sanzo's eyes narrowed at the touch, but he just couldn't be bothered doing anything about it.

Suddenly, Sanzo felt a hand land on his knee, long nails scratching gently across the covered skin and giving away the identity of the hand's owner. Turning to glare at Kanzeon, the blonde was met with a pretty smile as the woman recrossed her legs, her short skirt riding up to fully expose the gold band circling her upper thigh.

Even drunk, Sanzo didn't feel the slightest attraction to the woman. The make-up turned him off; the barely-concealed breasts turned him off; the hair that reeked of product turned him off. He would've gone home with Yakumo before touching the woman, and the chances of him doing _anything_ intimate with his employer were somewhere in the realm of 'imaginary numbers'.

"C'mon, Sanzo. Let's blow this place…and if you're lucky, maybe you'll find me blowing something else." Kanzeon's hand slipped higher on his thigh, palm coming teasingly close to his groin. Sanzo shuddered in revulsion, but it seemed like the other two mistook it for pleasure.

Sanzo finally noticed the possessive way Yakumo's hand had come to grip his shoulder, and he felt an instant sense of unease. He didn't want to be here; he didn't want to do _this_.

"She's been used 'n' abused, Sanzooo," Yakumo slurred, extending his last syllable, "So wouldn't ya rather _me_? I'll even let ya be on top."

Even with his drunken bliss, Sanzo had finally had enough. He pulled Yakumo's arm from around him, pressing the man's wrist much harder than he needed to. "Never. Not a fuckin' _chance_. Try it again and I'll castrate you."

Yakumo pouted, and Kanzeon laughed loudly. "Well, Yakumo my dear, looks like you _lost_. Don't worry, though: I'll return this pretty boy in good condition. He might just be a bit rumpled."

Sanzo roughly shoved the hand off his leg when it started to become a little _too_ adventurous. "_Nobody_ won. I don't want you; you're a _woman_."

Kanzeon was startled into silence for a few seconds, but she soon laughed again and slipped her palm over Sanzo's. "Oh, so you're gay? Well, there's a _lot_ more going on underneath this skirt than you obviously realise."

Before the blonde realised what was happening, his hand was lifted from the table and pressed into Kanzeon's lap, where a large bulge was cleverly hidden by the skirt's busy pattern and loose cut.

Confused and annoyed, Sanzo yanked his hand free and stumbled from his seat, heading straight for the door. "You two are fucking _insane!_ Leave me alone!"

Yakumo also stood, using the table to prop up his swaying body. "C'mon! What more d'ya want? You c'n even have us _both_!"

Sanzo turned back towards the table, stumbling and nearly falling as the world moved faster than he had expected. An empty table bumped his leg, and he leaned heavily on it. "Why would I want _you_ two when I could have _Gojyo_? He's fuckin' _gorgeous_…unlike _you_," he spat, pointing at Kanzeon in all her feminine, made-up glory.

"Hey!" She yelped, slamming her fist into the table and making the empty glasses rattle. Sanzo shot her a dirty look, unsteadily turning back around and staggering for the entrance.

A strong hand grabbed his bicep, and the blonde swatted ineffectually at it; turning, he saw that it was the bartender. "Sir, I can't let you drive. I'll call you a taxi."

Frowning, Sanzo opened his mouth to argue before giving up. He just couldn't be bothered. "Fine! Call a stupid taxi, I don't care. Or call Gojyo. Stupid beautiful dickhead _owes_ me when he wakes up. Just get me away from those two…_perverts!_"

The bartender ignored the rambling; he'd heard it all before. Drunken ranting was a given in his profession, and he simply called for the taxi as Sanzo weaved to the door.

"Assholes…as if I would ever want to fuck _them_," Sanzo mumbled to himself as he swung the door open, stepping out into the cool night to wait for his ride home. "They'd never be as good as _him_."


	38. Chapter 38: You Recall

Gojyo was stretched out on his back, staring blankly up at the ceiling. Life on the streets had taught him that when someone went missing, they either didn't come back or they turned up dead in a dumpster somewhere; he figured that a similar sentiment probably applied to high-ranking members of organised crime groups.

He blinked quickly as his vision started to swim again, forcing back the tears that kept threatening to escape. _Tears_. Although he'd come close a few times, he hadn't actually _cried_ from anything other than intense physical pain in many years; and even that was rare. It was a sign of weakness, and that was one thing that a street kid couldn't afford to show.

Jien and Hakkai had left him alone quite a while ago, and Gojyo wasn't sure how much time had passed. He would never have guessed that Sanzo's apparent death would hit him so hard: a lot of the people he'd known on the streets had died, and that had barely bothered him.

But Sanzo…he was _different_. The redhead couldn't shake the notion that Sanzo should have been damn near immortal: he seemed like the type to tell death to fuck off if he wasn't ready to go.

'_Unless…he __**was**__ ready to die…' _

From what little he knew about Sanzo and Hazel, the younger man had been looking to destroy the loanshark for a long time. What if now that Sanzo had done it, he had nothing left to live for? What if he'd _purposely_ let himself be…

'_Alright, now you're just being a fucking idiot,' _Gojyo admonished himself. '_Sanzo's not like that. He'll probably live to three hundred just to spite anyone who doesn't like him.'_

It was wishful thinking, and it wasn't helping. Optimism was good and all, but it just didn't tend to apply to real life; or, at least, to _Gojyo's_ life.

He needed to face it: the chances were that Sanzo had died. He wouldn't be coming back, either to kick Gojyo's ass or screw it into next week. It was time to move forward.

Clearing his throat, Gojyo gingerly lifted himself back into a seated position, wincing when his ribs pulled slightly. Really, he had bigger things to think about than some flash-in-the-pan bastard he'd known for a few weeks; his _brother_ was back. The only person who had ever cared about him had finally reappeared.

Gojyo smiled softly to himself, unable to _completely_ enjoy the realisation. On top of the fact that Sanzo was…_gone_, he had no idea how he was going to explain what he'd been doing since the age of fourteen. He couldn't tell Jien that he was a whore, not when the older man had clearly done so well for himself.

There weren't many plausible lies he could come up with, either. A common thief wouldn't have been able to afford an apartment like Gojyo had- that is, if Zakuro hadn't already gone in and sold off all of the redhead's possessions. A member of a rival gang would _never_ have gotten involved with Sanzo. _Legal_ work? He would've been on the system, and therefore traceable if he'd been doing a legitimate job.

His best option, then, would just be to avoid questions; both about what he'd been doing, and how he'd ended up in hospital in the first place. And as long as Hakkai didn't say anything…but then again, Sanzo had seemed to trust the brunette, so Gojyo saw no reason to think otherwise. Besides, Hakkai hadn't said anything about Hazel, so…

Gojyo felt an inexplicable burst of happiness at the thought of Hazel Grosse; not a reaction he was used to, that was for sure. But he could only assume that it was because it showed that Sanzo…

'_That he cares,' _Gojyo's brain supplied.

His relatively good mood about his brother's return now completely evaporated, Gojyo dropped his head into his hands. He'd tried, honestly _tried_ to keep his mind away from the blonde; but he just kept thinking in circles. Giving up, he let himself wallow in misery for a while longer.

Would there be a funeral? Hell, would there even be a _body_?

The sound of the door slowly opening had Gojyo slowly lifting his head, Jien standing awkwardly in the hallway and peering inside the room. Taking a second to compose himself properly, Gojyo waved his brother inside.

"How…are you feeling?" Doku asked quietly, making his way over to the bedside and taking a seat. Gojyo sighed, not really all that willing to face an interrogation right at that moment; he figured that it would be safe enough to answer that single question, though.

"I'm fine."

"…No, you're not," came the immediate reply. Gojyo wasn't entirely sure how to react: usually, when he said he was fine, the subject was dropped. It's not like anyone he worked with cared about how he was feeling; the question was only ever asked out of a fairly redundant sense of propriety.

It almost felt like Jien didn't trust him to deal with his own issues, like he was a useless little kid all over again. Gojyo had spent too much time lately feeling helpless; so instead of giving in and spilling his mind, he blew up.

"Why bother asking if you already knew the answer?" He snarled, feeling almost like he was channelling Sanzo. The sudden venom seemed to shock Jien, and it took a few seconds for the man to react.

"Gojyo, I'm just _worried_ about you! You're my brother, I'm meant to look after you." Jien's tone sounded awfully condescending to Gojyo's ears, and as such it did absolutely nothing to calm the redhead down.

Jabbing a finger at Jien, almost pulling out the drip attached to his arm in the process, Gojyo's voice progressively got louder as he descended into near-hysterics. "My _brother? _You're my protector all of a sudden?Why didn't you look after me when I was nine? You _abandoned _me. How was I meant to look after myself? Hardly anyone even knew I existed!"

He knew what he was saying wasn't entirely fair, but he couldn't rein in his mouth. Thirteen years of bitterness, of cold nights on the street, of going without food for days, of _brutal_ rapes in back alleys, were suddenly pouring out of him at the only nearby target.

Jien's mouth gaped and closed several times, words seeming to have fled from him. Soon enough, though, the cold stare of a man who controlled an entire crime organisation was levelled at Gojyo.

"You think I didn't protect you? You would've _died_ if I'd been a few seconds later coming home. You owe me your life, Gojyo; but I won't collect, because we're _family_. Even a bastard child like yourself should recognise what that means."

Flinching at the mention of his heritage, an insult that his step-mother had thrown at him at _least_ daily, Gojyo momentarily considered backing down; but he was done with being weak. He'd made his own way in life for thirteen years, and he was a strong person. He didn't have to take shit from anyone, least of all his long-absent half-brother.

"Oh, and what a life it's been, hey? But then again, you'd probably know all about it if you'd actually _bothered _to try and find me again." The conversation was barrelling towards very dangerous territory, but Gojyo felt more like an observer to the argument than a participant. His mouth was no longer under his mind's control.

Standing up, Jien slapped his open palm down on the chest of drawers beside the bed. "I _did_ try and find you! But how was I supposed to guess that you were whoring yourself out for some _asshole_ from Kougaiji's group?"

Almost simultaneously, the two men lost their urge to fight: Jien for spilling the knowledge he'd wanted to avoid at all costs, and Gojyo for realising that his brother knew of his _abhorrent_ lifestyle. The pair eyed each other apprehensively, Jien slowly lowering himself back into the chair.

Gojyo was the first to speak, staring blankly at the bedsheet covering his legs. "I did what I had to so I could survive. It was either let them buy me…or let them take what they wanted anyway."

"How old were you the…first time?" Jien seemed to have some trouble getting the question out, as if he really didn't want to hear the answer. Gojyo held back his own reticence, lifting his gaze to stare directly into his brother's dark eyes.

"I was fourteen the first time someone paid. I was eleven the first time they didn't."

Jien didn't say anything, but the look in his eyes seemed to tell Gojyo to keep talking. So he did.

"I would've already been close to six feet tall by thirteen. Guess my mother was a giant or something," he joked weakly. "Sex was nothing new by that point; even though it had only ever hurt me, I was desperate enough to do nearly anything. It wasn't all that hard to find some stupid guy or woman, someone who'd believe that I was eighteen, to take me home for the night; but I only did it for the food I could nick when they weren't looking and a place to crash. Hell, they made it feel _good_, so it was a sweet deal. Sure I'd had offers of cash before, but…I couldn't do it. It just seemed…like I'd be losing something important.

"Then one night, I was about to sneak into some filthy bar when this guy in a nice suit appeared. He offered me enough money to feed me for a month and _still_ have enough left for decent clothes. All I had to do was spend the night with him."

Gojyo stopped there, finally moving his eyes away from his brother. He figured that the decision he'd made that night was fairly obvious; he didn't need to relive _all_ the details.

"I don't know how he managed to track me down, 'cause I was never in the one place for too long, but the same guy appeared a few other times over a couple of months. I figured I was set, but then he stopped coming and the money ran out. _That_ was when I ended up working the streets; I'd seen how much I could make for something I was _already_ doing."

The look on Jien's face was indecipherable; now _he_ seemed to be the one channelling Sanzo, wearing a blank mask that gave no indication of the emotions beneath. Gojyo wanted nothing more than to stop talking, but he figured that now he'd started, he may as well tell his brother the whole sordid tale. Without any sort of prompting, he continued.

"It was messy on the streets. Those of us without pimp protection regularly got robbed, beaten and stiffed on payment, and diseases were _everywhere_. I dunno how I managed to stay clean, but I think it had something to do with the fact that I was one of the only ones not hooked on drugs. I only needed to make enough for food, not crack too, so I wasn't desperate enough to agree to bareback."

"You stayed off drugs?" Jien finally spoke up, sounding surprised and a _little_ disbelieving. Gojyo didn't blame him for that, though. He probably controlled a pretty big prostitution ring; he knew how many whores were only in it for the next fix.

"Course I did. You were the one who told me to stay away from that shit, after all." Jien's eyes widened before glazing over, and Gojyo guessed that the older man was going back through his memory to find that conversation. A small smile broke through the mask, and Jien nodded a little.

"And here I thought you weren't payin' any attention to me. I'm glad to hear that, at least. How did you end up under Kougaiji, though? He doesn't have much street territory." Jien now looked engrossed in the conversation, almost as if Gojyo was telling a story rather than just recounting the past. It was a little unnerving for the redhead.

Noticing that his hands were shaking a little from all the remembered emotions, Gojyo subtly hid them underneath the sheets. It was yet another weakness that he'd learnt to cover.

"I knew a couple of girls who'd gone to work for brothels around the place, and although they had to give up some cash, they seemed to have a better deal. A longer life expectancy, too. Not long after I turned eighteen, I got scouted by one of Banri's guys. Picked up some work at L'Amour, did some house call shit, and, well…I'm still there. Or I guess I _was_ there. Zakuro's probably moved on."

"And even if he hasn't, you're _not_ going back there," Jien suddenly growled. The possessive tone in the older man's voice took Gojyo aback; he didn't _want_ to go and be a whore again, but he also didn't like being told what to do. He held back the sudden urge for rebellion, though.

"S'not important. And it was at L'Amour that I met…Sanzo." Gojyo suddenly stopped, now _really_ not wanting to go any further. He was done. He _wouldn't_ let his brother see how much he wanted the blonde to come in and yell some more.

"You met Sanzo at a _club?_ When the Hell would that antisocial little bitch have gone to a club?"

Gojyo smiled a little at Jien's description of Sanzo. It was exactly like something he himself would say; he probably _had_ said it, or at least thought it, at some point. "He said that he was…working. So I'm guessing that you had something to do with it."

"Shit, I remember that! That was when I was looking to take out Banri…so he actually_ picked up_ that night? Holy fuck…"

"Yeah, but I didn't let him pay me, for some stupid reason. He actually found me the next day and _forced_ the cash at me." Gojyo only realised what he had said as he finished, and the atmosphere in the room suddenly went awkward. Obviously, Jien wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea of his brother getting paid for sex, no matter how much of a relaxed act he put on.

But there was one more thing that Jien apparently needed to know.

"And…afterwards? Did he keep…buying you?"

Gojyo could've laughed at Jien's discomfort if the topic hadn't sent little bolts of pain through his chest. So instead, he just tried to remove himself from emotion. "Fuck no. We got together because I…I _wanted_ him. He's the only person I've ever willingly screwed without getting something out of it other than pleasure."

When Jien spoke again, his voice was low and guarded. "So you two were…together? As in lovers?"

The question hit a little too close to home for Gojyo, and he covered it by putting up a mask of his own. A smile and a joke; he'd been hiding behind them for years. "You think that pissy bastard would ever make it official? He turned me down pretty hard when I asked him to marry me."

The look of utter shock on Jien's face was almost enough to make Gojyo's laugh genuine. _Almost_. "I was totally _shitfaced_ at the time, don't worry. No, we weren't lovers, I guess…but I cared a lot for him."

Saying it out loud, Gojyo finally knew that it was true. He liked Sanzo a lot, and he cared for him; the beautiful dickhead had somehow wormed his way into Gojyo's heart. Not that it mattered anymore.

"Jien…will you tell me if they find his body?" Gojyo stared unflinchingly at his brother once again, waiting while the man obviously looked for the right answer.

"…Yes. I'll tell you…but that doesn't mean you'll get to _see _it."

Gojyo thought that through for a second, quickly deciding that he didn't need to see another corpse. He didn't want to see those looks defiled, those purple eyes lifeless; he was happy enough with his last memory of Sanzo being the man's furious, snarling face.

"You've got a deal. I just want to know that he's really gone…so that I can stop hoping he'll walk through the door."

Gojyo barely noticed what he'd just said; he _didn't_ notice the way that Jien's face twisted in worry, red eyes having returned to stare at his lap.

And neither man noticed Hakkai standing in the hallway just beside the open door, silently listening to the conversation between the two brothers as it unfolded.


	39. Chapter 39: We Move

Sanzo rolled his eyes when his cell didn't go silent after eight rings, finally taking it out of his pocket and answering it; the display informed him that it was Yakumo.

"What do _you_ want?" He snapped. He might have been fairly drunk at the bar two nights ago, but he still remembered _exactly_ what happened. Well…most of what happened.

He recalled saying some horribly complimentary things about a certain redheaded whore; and he recalled unwillingly groping a transsexual of some sort who _also_ tried to grope him back. And he _certainly_ remembered his employer attempting to hit on him for the entire evening.

"Still sore about the other day? I told you, I'm sorry." Sanzo sighed in disgust. The man had left four messages on his phone to that effect; this was the first time that Sanzo had actually answered, rather than just letting the call ring out. He'd only given in this once because he thought that it might stop Yakumo from trying to contact him for a while.

"You're lucky I was drunk enough to forget that I was carrying my revolver. You would've had something to be sorry about _then_."

"Alright, Sanzo, I get the picture," Yakumo muttered impatiently. "If you don't stop being such a prick, I won't tell you something you'll probably want to know."

Sanzo's curiosity was piqued, but he still stayed silent. He didn't want to give Yakumo the pleasure of knowing that he was now willingly going to listen.

"I take the sudden quiet to mean that you wanna hear it. You know, Sanzo, you can be pretty obedient when it comes down to it..."

"Get to the point, asshole," Sanzo hissed. He wouldn't take being referred to as a trained pet; he didn't have a _master_. He didn't have anyone.

Just himself.

Chuckling down to phone line, Yakumo cleared his throat and finally got down to business. This was a serious situation, but something about the blonde just made him smile.

"Okay, then. I take it that you remember Kanzeon?"

Sanzo's eyes narrowed, and a low growl built up in the back of his throat. _Yes_, he remembered that stupid fucking man…woman…thing. The next time he saw him…her…_it_ he was going to snap its fucking neck. _That_ would teach it to keep its filthy hands to itself.

Luckily, Yakumo wasn't looking for any sort of intelligible answer, and he continued. "She's been with me for a long time, and I wouldn't normally talk about shit like this, but…I guess we go way back, too. So I want to tell you something that just came to my attention."

He paused again, and Sanzo wondered just how long this was going to take. His patience was running short, and he wasn't expecting Yakumo to come out with anything _too_ important anyway. "Are you going to tell me, or are you just going to _talk_ about telling me?"

"Down, boy," Yakumo murmured with humour in his voice. Sanzo's finger twitched towards the call disconnect button.

"_Anyway_. Apparently, she spent yesterday digging for info on you."

Sanzo felt a sinking sensation in his stomach, and he scowled into the phone. "What _sort_ of information?"

"We can't be certain, but it looks like she wants to know why you suddenly appeared here out of the blue."

"Son of a _bitch," _the blonde cursed, his grip tightening around the phone. Kanzeon was _definitely_ female: only a woman would try fucking this badly with someone who rejected them. It wouldn't take her long to find out that there was a hit on his head, and then the bitch would probably lead Doku right to his door.

His only decision now was whether to stay or run.

"I'm guessing it's something bad, then." Yakumo didn't sound surprised, even though Sanzo hadn't given away a single hint about why he'd suddenly needed a job. Actually, Sanzo was a little shocked that Yakumo hadn't just done the same research himself; the man must've been telling the truth when he'd said that he only wanted to hear the story from Sanzo's mouth.

"If she got the story yesterday, then the shit'll probably hit the fan tomorrow."

"D'you want some backup? I have a few guys I could probably spare for a day or two." Although Yakumo didn't know _exactly_ what was going on, there were only so many reasons why a guy in this business would suddenly need to skip town. It was pretty obvious that violence was going to be involved.

Sanzo snorted in disgusted amusement, thinking about what Hakkai would do to just about _anyone_ that Yakumo could put in front of him. "If the guy who shows up at my door with a gun is the one I think it's going to be, then you shouldn't send anyone. They won't stand a chance."

"Hey! I'll have you know that _all_ my men are top quality." Yakumo sounded offended; Sanzo just rolled his eyes again.

"Do you remember Gyumaoh?"

There was silence while Yakumo thought. "…The _massive _drug cartel leader? Well…ex_-_cartel leader?"

"Mmm-hmm," Sanzo agreed. He didn't offer anything more, waiting for his employer to come to his own conclusions.

"…The one who got taken down last year, along with a hundred or so of his top-ranked guys? Sanzo, what are yo-…"

"That was me and the guy coming after me," Sanzo said over the top of Yakumo's voice. "_Just_ me and the other guy."

Yakumo let out a little disbelieving laugh, his shock coming through clearly even without the assistance of facial expressions. Sanzo felt a little burst of pride; he'd almost gotten his ass killed _many_ times that night, but they'd come out of it alive. Absolutely _covered_ in blood, but alive nonetheless.

"Alright. If you think you can handle this guy…I'll let you do it alone. Unless you just want to cut and run? I can have you sorted with a new identity before tomorrow."

"No," Sanzo said firmly, his decision having come easily. "I already took off once. If Kanzeon finds out that this man is looking for me and sends him here, then I'll be waiting."

"Still, Sanzo, I don't reckon she'd do…"

"Are we done here? Is there anything else I should know?" Sanzo didn't want to hear any half-assed reassurances. Yakumo was biased towards Kanzeon; he was now even more certain that she was high in the organisation. It was possible that she was going to try and get him killed; but he wasn't going without a fight.

"…There's nothing else."

"Then I'll talk to you in a couple of days. Don't contact me until then."

Hanging up the phone without waiting for a reply, Sanzo exhaled loudly and stood up, patting down his pockets for his cigarettes and lighter. He wasn't going to run; he was going to fight. Hell, maybe Kanzeon _wouldn't_ tell Doku exactly where to find his current number one target.

'_Yeah,' _Sanzo thought with a sarcastic huff, _'And maybe she didn't have a massive cock, either.'_

* * *

The previous day, Dokugakuji was leaning his arms on the railing of his second-storey balcony, looking down at the green grass of his large backyard. Hakkai stood next to him, back pressed to the metal fencing.

"D'you think he loves him, Hakkai?" Sighing, Doku dropped his head and leant more of his body weight onto his arms. It wasn't often that he second-guessed his decisions, but right now it felt like he'd changed his mind a million times on what to do about Sanzo. All he was sure of was that he needed to keep Gojyo in the dark about the whole thing.

"I…don't know. I never really spent all that much time with Gojyo; I only have my speculations."

Doku wasn't all that surprised with Hakkai's answer. The brunette didn't go around making wild accusations and assumptions about people; he dealt in fact. But Dokugakuji _also_ knew that Hakkai observed a lot more than the average person, and therefore had an uncanny knack of picking up on what most others missed.

"Well then, what _do_ you know?"

Hakkai turned around, his finger tracing idly along the top of the railing. Taking a few moments to look down at the garden, he finally spoke in a soft, certain tone. "Gojyo was put in hospital because he received a severe beating. Sanzo went after the man who conducted the beating, and took vengeance for Gojyo. Even if your brother is not entirely 'in love' with Sanzo, he certainly sees him as a protector of sorts."

Suddenly feeling even worse about the past thirteen years, Doku ran his hands through his hair, tightening his grip towards the end. "_I_ should have been the one protecting him."

"You weren't to know. There's nothing you could have done; it was pure luck that brought you back together, after all." Hakkai's voice was slightly thicker with emotion, and it only then occurred to Doku how painful a discussion about killing someone's lover would be for the brunette.

Straightening up, the older man turned to look properly at Hakkai. "Once again, I'm sorry that I've asked you to do this…but anyone else who goes will die. You're the only man I have who can take one over Sanzo."

Hakkai also turned, his hands clasping neatly in front of him as he looked up into Doku's eyes. "It doesn't matter what I feel. My duty is to you; I do what is asked of me."

"I just wish there was a better way. But it's too dangerous for my brother if I call off the hit on his account. If someone finds out that they can hurt me _and_ Sanzo by nailing Gojyo, he won't see the week out."

The sound of muffled cursing had both men turning towards the glass doors that separated the house and balcony. Gojyo was limping slowly through the hallway, using the wall to balance himself; he'd been allowed out of bed late the previous afternoon, and the drip had been taken from his arm.

Now it was up to his body to heal itself naturally.

With his knee still slightly out of shape and his ribs limiting his breathing, it wasn't a pretty sight to watch the proud redhead struggling through the house. Still, Doku believed that _anything_ was better than seeing his brother sleeping motionlessly in a hospital bed- or not seeing him at all.

Finally reaching the glass doors, Gojyo slid one open and staggered onto the balcony, slowly lowering himself into one of the outdoor chairs. Despite the fact that he was almost entirely out of breath, he gave the two men his usual charming smile. "S'up? Secret tough guy business?"

Doku wasn't sure if he was pleased or depressed about Gojyo's casual acceptance of his profession. Sure, it meant that there was no disgust in those red eyes; but it also showed that Gojyo's life hadn't been the easy, simple one he deserved.

"Something like that," he replied with a small smile. "How are you feeling?"

Gojyo stretched his arms up above his head, wincing when his ribs pulled painfully. "Like a million bucks. I could really do with a smoke, though…"

The redhead looked hopefully up at his brother, clearly waiting for a pack to be thrown his way. He pouted when Doku shook his head.

"Fuck no. You can barely breathe properly; no cigarettes."

"_Sanzo_ would let me smoke," Gojyo muttered in jest. He grinned up at the other two, settling himself further into the chair.

When neither smiled back, the expression dropped. "…Sorry. I forgot that you two…knew him."

Hakkai was the first to respond, a bland smile appearing on his face. "It's alright. If anyone cried over Sanzo he would just want to yell at them until they hardened up."

"You've got _that_ right," Gojyo replied with another smile. He was about to say something else when a phone rang, Doku muttering something that the redhead couldn't quite hear before looking at the display.

"Sorry, I've gotta take this. I'll be back in a second." Walking back into the house, Doku made sure that he was out of hearing range and answered the call.

"What's happened?"

"We've got a lead on Sanzo."

* * *

The day after his conversation with Yakumo, Sanzo woke up with a feeling that something was…_off_. He wasn't entirely sure what it was, but his instincts were screaming at him to get up and check it out.

Quickly tugging on a pair of jeans, the blonde made sure that his revolver was loaded and tucked it in the waistband, grabbing a couple of extra rounds of ammo and dropping them into his pocket. He wasn't taking any chances; not with what he'd been alerted to yesterday.

Peering cautiously into the hall, Sanzo crept out of his bedroom, one hand on his gun in anticipation of a sudden ambush. Heading quietly towards the lounge area, he took a quick look into the darkened room and felt adrenaline rush through his body. Pressing himself against the wall beside the door, he took a moment to compose his mind, strategy after strategy beginning to form for the situation.

There, sitting casually in his apartment as if it were no big deal, was Hakkai Cho.

Sanzo's entire body tensed when a quietly amused voice floated through the quiet apartment. "Good morning, Sanzo. I hope you've been well?"

Not making any move to answer, Sanzo pulled the gun from his jeans and prepared himself for the fight of his life.

This was _it_.

* * *

*******Disclaimer: No, the author does not have any issue with transsexuals of any variety. Sanzo is just a very grumpy man who doesn't like being touched and who is in total repressed denial and who needs a good fuck from a certain redhead. (On that note, I thought this was supposed to be yaoi. The romantically-linked characters haven't spoken since chapter 26. WTF?)

Just thought I'd put that out there, because I'd hate to be referred to as being an 'it' and I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea from that little passage.*******


	40. Chapter 40: You Reveal

*******So, anyone who has only seen the Saiyuki anime and hasn't read the manga might be wondering why my Kanzeon was randomly a tranny. In the manga, they actually explicitly state on at least three occasions that she's a hermaphrodite; I just decided to change it slightly so as to better fit in with my story. I didn't give her a dick _just_ for shits and giggles.

Also, this took so long because I was writing a SanzoxGojyoxHakkai piece that is now up on my LJ.*******

* * *

Sanzo cocked back the hammer on his revolver, tensing himself for a bullet that never came. Cautiously sliding closer to the doorway, he partially swung out his body and shot twice towards where he'd seen Hakkai sitting.

The sound of the window breaking informed him that he'd missed; letting his mind catch up to his vision, Sanzo realised that Hakkai had no longer been in the chair. Cursing under his breath, the blonde began to inch his head back into the room, searching for his assailant.

The sound of a gentle sigh had him pulling his face out of the firing line, sweat beading on his forehead as he made it just before a loud shot rang from the left somewhere. "Oh, Sanzo. I wish you wouldn't fight me."

One of Sanzo's eyebrows rose in disbelief. So what, he was just expected to kneel down and let them take him out, execution-style? Not fucking likely. "I don't particularly feel like dying today."

Hoping that Hakkai was sufficiently distracted, he leant over to sneak another peek into the seemingly empty room. Catching a flash of a silver barrel pointed directly at him from beside a different chair, he let off a quick shot and jerked his body back to safety.

"Yes, I can imagine that Gojyo would be quite upset," Hakkai said, just as casually as if he was simply having tea with the blonde. The wall shook slightly when Hakkai's next bullet buried itself into the doorframe, the wood barely bringing the speeding lead to a halt.

"Oh, what would _you_ know," Sanzo snarled, sick of the chatter already. He was spoiling for a _fight_; not a debate.

Hakkai laughed quietly, a bitter noise that raised Sanzo's tension even further. "I know that he misses you."

Rolling his eyes, Sanzo leant over again and shot at the small section of Hakkai's shoulder that he could see protruding from the side of the chair; it went wide by what could only have been millimetres. Still watching the brunette's cover closely, Sanzo scoffed. "What, was he sleeptalking?"

A sudden gunshot over the top of the chair had the blonde throwing himself to the ground, using his arms to shove his body back out of the doorway when he hit. His wrist twinged at the movement, but he simply switched the gun to his left hand and shook it out. Settling himself into a crouch, he took his revolver back into his dominant hand.

"Sanzo, he's been awake for days now. Your name was the first word he spoke."

The blonde's breath caught, but he forced himself to stay in the present and not fall back into his mind. Hakkai was most probably just trying to psyche him; the man's mind games were legendary.

"Don't lie to me, Hakkai." Still crouched, he emptied his barrel into the chair in the hopes that one of the bullets would pierce right through. The lack of pain sounds made it clear that he would be having no such luck. Quickly reloading, he lifted his revolver and peeked cautiously back into the lounge, waiting for Hakkai to show himself.

"Why would I lie to a dead man?"

Unexpectedly, Sanzo found himself snorting with amusement. "Oh, I'm a _long_ way from dead, Hakkai. And I can tell that you're barely trying…unless you're losing your skill."

A flash of movement caught his eye, brunette hair appearing just above the chair's arm. Sanzo cursed when the bullet _somehow_ seemed to miss; he could've sworn that one would hit.

"Sanzo…I was ordered to kill you." Oddly, the sentence wasn't punctuated with a bullet the way that Sanzo had been anticipating. The sheer bizarreness of the situation was beginning to get to him; Hakkai had _never_ stalled this long.

It was obvious to Sanzo that stalling was _exactly_ what the brunette was pulling. He just couldn't figure out why.

"I was sent to kill you, and…" the man paused, and when he began again his voice seemed _different_, somehow. "You don't know what happened to _my_ lover, do you."

Sanzo frowned in confusion and resisted the urge to beat his head against the wall in frustration. Hakkai was now completely covered behind the chair, and it wasn't safe for him to move. The room was just too open. "No. And I don't care."

It seemed that his words were ignored; Hakkai was clearly determined to speak. Sanzo rolled his eyes, using the distraction to hope that Hakkai would slip up and reveal himself.

"She was such a beautiful woman. We were so happy…"

Sanzo scoffed. He didn't give a shit, and if this was going to turn into some sort of moral lesson about Gojyo then he was going to march over there and _slaughter_ Hakkai, his own possible injuries be damned.

"It was three years ago that she was kidnapped by an exceptionally vengeful gang. They did _abhorrent_ things to her…" The brunette's voice was wavering ever so slightly, and Sanzo began to wonder whether this really was just the average psychological ploy. It was rare that Hakkai ever showed this much emotion.

"Does this have a point?" Sanzo asked, simply to disguise his confusion under apathy. Once again, Hakkai ignored him.

"They left her in an alley. It was only after she was taken to hospital that I found out she still lived. Once she returned home, though, she refused to leave our room. She seemed to be afraid of me…the one person who had always been with her."

Sanzo had never particularly been affected by sympathy. Now was no exception. Rather, he could only feel annoyed that Hakkai was possibly losing his will to continue the fight. Maybe…

Maybe this was a sick sort of suicide note.

Sanzo didn't appreciate the prospect of being forced into assisted euthanasia.

"She barely ate, but slowly her stomach began to grow nonetheless. When she realised that she was carrying _someone's_ child, she…My beautiful Kanan cut her own womb out." The slight snarl in Hakkai's tone put Sanzo on edge, and he edged back towards the cover of the wall in case the brunette suddenly needed an outlet for his anger.

He was only moving slowly at this point, but Hakkai's next words made Sanzo press himself against the wall as quickly as he could, his instincts screaming at him to get out of there as quickly as he could.

"I slaughtered them all for it."

In actuality, Sanzo realised that it was the brunette's changing tone that put him on edge. The anger had disappeared with the latest sentence, replaced instead by…_amusement_. The blonde wasn't one to _ever_ be afraid of _anything_…

But Hakkai's barely-restrained psychosis was damn near scaring him.

"Do you know what, Sanzo?" Although the blonde couldn't see Hakkai's face, all he could picture was a wide, manic grin distorting the quiet man's features. The sick amusement evident in his voice couldn't have meant anything else.

"Killing them didn't bring her back. I won't say that I didn't enjoy it: the sound of their screams as I shot out their spines, the gore so thick on the ground that I was practically wading through it all, the blood that splattered all over me…"

A low, deep laugh raised Sanzo's hackles, and he snuck another look into the room- only to see that Hakkai was now standing in the middle of the room, completely open to be shot at.

Sanzo knew he needed to take the opportunity, but as he lifted the gun and green, glasses-covered eyes looked down and stared at him, he just _couldn't_. He didn't know why; he'd never encountered something like this before.

Shivers ran down his spine and across his back as Hakkai simply continued to stare, a smile smaller than the one Sanzo had imagined seemingly frozen on his lips. Even when the brunette spoke again, the smile didn't waver.

"Breaking their families didn't bring mine back. My lover…my best friend…my _sister_." Hakkai laughed again, his eyes wide and unblinking as Sanzo found himself captivated, unable to move or look away. "Kanan was my _everything_."

Sanzo felt his jaw drop as the implications of Hakkai's mad words sank in. The brunette wasn't talking about three different people: he only referred to one.

That meant that he…

"Yes, Kanan was my sister. The ones who knew told us that we were _sinning_: that we were dirty and our love was wrong."

Even if Sanzo had been predisposed towards speaking his mind, he didn't think that he would have had a single thing to say in the face of Hakkai's confession. All thoughts of the seeming irrelevance of this tangent disappeared, his mind only wondering about the brunette's wavering mental state.

The light tone of Hakkai's voice was as much of an indicator of this as anything could ever be. The blonde knew that he was most likely in trouble now; but he still couldn't move himself. His body was detaching itself from the orders of his brain.

"Do you know what I did to _them_, Sanzo? I put one in a wheelchair, and I don't believe that one of them has woken up from his vegetating state yet. The third one was lucky. _She_ bled out after I took her arms!"

Hakkai's last words were distorted by manic giggles, his smile widening and shoulders shaking as laughter began to wrack his body. Sanzo couldn't take it anymore, and he forced his body to move: using his left hand to make sure his grip was perfectly steady around his revolver, he sent a shot directly towards the outside of Hakkai's thigh.

The bullet grazed the long limb before sinking itself into the wall on the opposite side of the room, and the insane laughter suddenly ceased, allowing quiet to reign. Hakkai's grin dissolved into an expression of shock as his eyes glassed over, and he sank to his knees.

"…Thank you…Sanzo…" The brunette gasped out as his body crumpled into the ground in a dead faint, gun sliding away from his hand and glasses skittering across the floor.

Breathing hard, the blonde stood up, keeping his gun trained on the still figure as he tentatively walked into the room. Standing over Hakkai's body, he gently nudged the man with his foot; when there was no response, he knelt down and took to divesting the brunette of the weapons he had hidden all over his body.

Standing again with his hands filled with two pistols and several knives, Sanzo dropped the whole lot into a cupboard before glancing back at the figure. A quiet sound put the blonde on edge all over again, but when Hakkai didn't move any further he relaxed a little.

It seemed like the man was now just sleeping.

Taking a few steps towards the door, Sanzo paused as he remembered how Hakkai hadn't tried to ambush him; the brunette would have had plenty of opportunities to sneak in and kill him. But he hadn't.

Rolling his eyes, Sanzo walked back to the sleeping figure and leaned down, hoisting the man none-too-gently over his shoulder. It was a little difficult to carry the slightly taller and heavier man, but Sanzo simply gritted his teeth and headed straight for the bedroom.

Dumping the man on the unmade bed, and sticking a large adhesive bandage from his first-aid kit onto Hakkai's slightly-bleeding leg, Sanzo didn't bother looking back yet again as he left the room.

He just headed straight for the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge. Yes, it was still morning; but whoever decided that drinking early was bad had _obviously_ never had to deal with a fucked-up assassin straight after waking.

'_Actually,' _Sanzo thought as he looked at the can in his hand, '_I think I need something harder.'_

Abandoning the can on the table, the blonde made a beeline for his hard liquor collection.

* * *

Gojyo limped back into his room, waving off Jien as the older man asked if he needed anything. "I might just go back to sleep for a while, okay?"

"Alright, Gojyo. I'll be downstairs."

Nodding, the redhead closed the door behind his brother and practically fell onto the bed, his body instinctively curling up.

He hadn't _really_ believed it at first, but the longer he thought, the more likely it seemed to become. Sanzo was dead. He wasn't going to burst in with guns blazing and venom practically spewing from his mouth, abusing anything and everything he saw before eventually giving in and letting Gojyo into his pants.

The redhead couldn't help but laugh sadly as his mind immediately connected Sanzo with sex. This _thing_ he had with the blonde barely involved sex at all. Gojyo knew that people didn't cry over someone they'd slept with three times, just because their good lay was gone; and that meant he'd fucked up.

For the first time in too many years, he'd found himself _feeling_ for another person; and it just _had _to be a dangerous man who lived a risky life.

Three nights together, even _fantastic_ ones, shouldn't make one person feel like their world was falling apart simply because the other was no longer around. Yes, Gojyo had put on a cheerful front for Jien and Hakkai; but that was just because he knew that they would ask questions if he expressed his actual feelings.

Gojyo didn't want to talk about his 'relationship' with the blonde. It was too fucked up, and it _hurt_ to know that Sanzo had died without knowing that _someone_ cared for him.

A small smile broke out on Gojyo's face as he stared distantly at the ceiling above him: he knew that Sanzo probably _preferred_ thinking that he was alone in the world. The man was an absolute lone wolf.

Gojyo frowned as he tried to remember back to the times that he'd seen Sanzo with another person. He could only think of two: himself and Hakkai. He couldn't remember a single other time that he'd ever seen Sanzo alone with anyone else.

So unless the blonde got unexpectedly social when Gojyo wasn't looking, then he was probably glad to have died alone, his body probably dumped somewhere to be discovered later, when identification wouldn't be done…

Sniffing slightly, Gojyo attempted to force back the tears that seemed determined to break out all over again. Sanzo might have accepted dying alone as a good thing, but it was the last thing Gojyo wanted to think about. He felt like his heart was breaking at the very idea of no one mourning the gorgeous man's death.

Yes, Sanzo had been an utter bastard. But there had been something underneath the violence and the misanthropy: something damn near generous and honourable, the same thing that had made the blonde stop Gojyo from killing himself, and the same thing that ever so rarely appeared in Sanzo's actions.

'_But that doesn't mean he wouldn't run the Hell away if I told him that…I…loved him…'_

Gojyo's half-closed eyes shot open as his heart pounded in his chest, a slight shaking starting up in his hands.

He wanted to tell himself that it wasn't true. That Sanzo was just a very good friend, a man that he trusted and who was _very_ nice to look at. That the little part of his heart that wasn't dead was still his, and that he hadn't given it away to the first guy who didn't just use him for sex.

But it was no use.

"I…I love him…" Gojyo told the ceiling, squeezing his eyes shut as the tears began to escape, streaming down the sides of his face.

"I love him."

* * *

Sanzo had only had a single glass of alcohol before tucking the bottle back away, not trusting the brunette even though he'd been disarmed. Since then, he'd just been sitting in the front room, reading a newspaper and waiting for signs of life from Hakkai.

Therefore, he heard it easily when unsteady footsteps started down the hall, Hakkai obviously not entirely _right_ after his little breakdown. Not bothering to say anything, Sanzo just waited for the footsteps to come closer.

The haggard figure that appeared in the doorway was a sad sight. Hakkai's shoulders were slumped and his eyes were downcast, his fringe obscuring Sanzo's view of the green orbs. The brunette fidgeted a little before finally speaking.

"I'm…I'm so sorry, Sanzo. I don't know what happened…it was almost as if someone else was controlling my body."

"Tch," the blonde grunted in reply. "I still have half a mind to shoot you on principle alone. Either tell me why I'm still alive or fuck the Hell off."

Hakkai lifted his head, meeting Sanzo's eyes and nodding slightly. "Of course."

The brunette walked into the room and sat down in the chair opposite Sanzo, his body rounded slightly rather than ruler-straight like it usually was. His hands were clasped tightly together, knuckles going white from the force.

"You already know that Dokugakuji would like you dead…and he has informed Gojyo that you are more than likely deceased. Gojyo still expects you to go back to him, though."

Sanzo snorted, rolling his eyes about the redhead. "What an idiot. He's a sentimenta-…"

"_Sanzo_," Hakkai interrupted in a slightly stern tone, "This isn't about Gojyo being unintelligent or not. He _cares_ for you. He truly does."

Raising an eyebrow in disbelief, Sanzo snorted again. "Don't confuse sex with…_emotions_, Hakkai. It was nothing like what you're clearly thinking."

"He told Dokugakuji that he cares a lot for you. Why would he lie to his brother?"

"Do I look like I know what goes on in that prick's head?" Sanzo snapped, consciously channelling all his emotions into anger. He could feel the slightest hints of something that hadn't appeared in a very long time, but he didn't want to examine them further. He just wanted them _gone_.

"No, and I don't expect you to. But I'm going to give you a choice, Sanzo." Hakkai was straightening his torso out, his usual posture of quiet confidence returning. Sanzo just continued to scowl at the brunette.

"You heard about what the loss of my lover did to me. I can't watch Gojyo go through that. He's fragile right now, and he _needs_ you. So come back with me. Go back to him."

…That wasn't exactly what Sanzo had been expecting. In order to avoid analysing Hakkai's words too far, he did the only thing he could think of: becoming as petulant as possible.

"That's only one choice. What's my other option, hmm?"

Hakkai didn't seem surprised by Sanzo's attitude. His expression didn't change as he informed the blonde of his other choice, and neither did his cool, emotionless voice. "If you refuse to return to Gojyo, then there is nothing to do but carry out my orders. I don't want to see Gojyo be destroyed by this, but if you run away again then I can't disobey the man to whom I owe so much."

Sanzo had already realised that his second option was going to be death. His pride was torn: it was cowardly to run again, but it would be horridly demeaning to prostrate himself at Doku's feet and ask for a reprieve. He didn't want to do either.

"And if you're worried about Dokugakuji, he has already second-guessed his order; though he might expect an apology for what you did. Or maybe he'll want something more. The poor man has already shown himself to be somewhat unbalanced in affairs regarding Gojyo."

Sanzo rolled his eyes again. _That_ was an understatement. There was no guarantee that he wouldn't just be shot where he stood if he returned. Maybe it would just be better to leave again and hope that Doku just gave up on this ridiculous hunt.

"I need a decision, Sanzo. Come with me…or I'll kill you."


	41. Chapter 41: You Release

Gojyo groaned as he stretched out along Jien's leather-upholstered couch, his knee and ribs twinging when he made the wrong movements. His right arm was resting out in front of him, holding the remote to the ridiculously oversized TV Jien had mounted along one plain, white wall; there might have been hundreds of channels on the damned thing, but not one of them was playing anything halfway decent.

He paused momentarily on what looked like a horror film, frowning as he watched a screaming brunette woman have her fingers wrenched back painfully by a masked assailant, bones splintering unrealistically through the skin. The vision made his left hand cramp uncomfortably, and he quickly changed the channel again.

Even though he had no reason to believe that Hazel was still alive, he was still the _smallest_ bit concerned that he was going to wake up in that fucking basement again. Hell, he was still waiting for the day when Zakuro would show up at Jien's front door and demand for Gojyo to come back to work. He shuddered slightly at the thought of going back to fucking random men and women on a daily basis: the very idea seemed to be an affront to Sanzo's memory.

Lightly slapping his left hand over his eyes, ignoring the little bolts of pain running through his fingers, Gojyo grumbled again. His life had been easy before Sanzo; Hell, it'd been damn near enjoyable. He hadn't cared about screwing whoever could pay, he hadn't had anyone to mourn over, and his body had still been in perfect working condition.

But thanks to that damned beautiful asshole, nearly everything had gone to shit. Gojyo couldn't bring himself to even _think_ about doing the one job he was well-trained for; he couldn't move properly without pain or exhaustion kicking in almost immediately; and there was a pain in his heart that only seemed to only increase with every waking minute, and a few of the dreaming ones as well.

Despite the complaints, though, Gojyo knew that he was just attempting to misplace his frustrations. He was sore, bored and a little depressed; but he had his _brother _back thanks to Sanzo. The one person to ever have loved him, and who'd openly welcomed him back after thirteen years.

Not to mention the fact that Hazel was _finally_ off his back. Sanzo had made sure of that for him, hadn't he? As often as Gojyo had entertained the notion, he didn't think that he would've been able to kill the loanshark bastard himself. He wouldn't have been able to get close enough…

Gojyo suddenly found himself wondering how Sanzo had dispatched Hazel: Had it been a quick death, like Banri's? Or had Sanzo put the madness and rage he'd shown the redhead into drawing out Hazel's death, the way the loanshark deserved?

Making a mental note to ask that question to Hakkai the next time he saw the brunette alone, Gojyo went back to idly flipping through the television channels, though he barely caught sight of any one program before he kept going. Eventually grumbling with annoyance at the lack of interesting shows, he pressed the channel up button several more times for good measure before simply sitting the remote back on the coffee table, resting his right hand behind his head and his left hand on his shirtless stomach.

Gojyo raised an eyebrow as he focused in on the television, watching curiously as a bearded, strung-out-looking man ran from several people in red jumpsuits, who also appeared to be carrying…giant scissors? The redhead rubbed his eyes as he wondered whether this was actually happening, or if his injuries had taken a greater toll on his general sanity than had previously been thought.

Deciding that he probably didn't want that question to be answered, Gojyo leaned over and jabbed at the remote with his still-bandaged hand, the scared man on the screen quickly dissolving into black. Smiling a little at the sheer weirdness of the scene, Gojyo shifted his vision to the high ceiling above him and allowed his focus to fall inwards again.

He still barely believed that all this was real. That his brother had been so close for so many years, and doing so well for himself; and that a certain blonde bitch had been the random linking factor between the two remaining Sha men. It was amazing, really, that just another paid fling had turned into something so much more…

Gojyo smiled bitterly at the ceiling, shaking his head a little from side to side. Sanzo would've _hated_ the knowledge that Gojyo saw him as more than just a dick to drop his pants for; that was one thing that the redhead was absolutely certain about.

But it was true. As much as it made him feel like a foolish idiot, Gojyo knew that the blonde had come to be a lot of different things in a relatively short period of time. A complete asshole; a great lay; a gorgeous, cold-hearted bastard; a protector of sorts; a good- yet utterly dysfunctional- friend; and the only person that Gojyo had grown to love in thirteen years.

The redhead swallowed down his suddenly-dry throat as his stomach twisted, the concept of 'love' still foreign and uncomfortable for the prostitute. Even if Sanzo wasn't around anymore, Gojyo couldn't shake the feeling that he shouldn't be entertaining such emotions for the blonde; he didn't want to scare the man away.

That was stupid, though. He couldn't make Sanzo run away: the dickhead had already gone and left him behind, without so much as a final goodbye fuck. _'Unless he went at me when I was asleep…'_

The thought made Gojyo cringe: even though he knew- or at least hoped- that Sanzo was too honourable to rape a comatose man, he'd met too many people who would've taken such an opportunity in an instant. Pimps rarely believed in letting a small thing such as utter unconsciousness get in the way of business.

But Sanzo was _better_ than that. Better than anyone else Gojyo had met on the streets. The temper, the insulting attitude, the murder; none of it had mattered to the redhead. Underneath the constant bitchiness and the criminal activity there had been a man who'd treated a whore like a human.

Only two other people had _ever_ done that for Gojyo.

The smile on the redhead's face grew as he thought about Sanzo, and he wasn't all that surprised when his smile wasn't the only thing to start growing. How long had it been since he'd gotten off?

'_Too long,'_ Gojyo's brain supplied, the fingers on his right hand flexing as he resisted the urge to rub the growing bulge in his pants. Years of constant sex had turned him into a painfully hedonistic creature, and now that he was aware of how long he had gone without release, his body was beginning to ache for attention.

Weighing up his options, Gojyo stiffly levered himself from the couch and limped his way to his bedroom. His body wasn't going to calm down, and he didn't particularly feel like putting on a show for his brother, Hakkai or whichever member of security happened to wander past the living room.

It was strange, occasionally seeing the dark-suited men walking through the yards or the house. Gojyo couldn't imagine having people employed solely to make sure he was safe. Sure, the club had employed security; but they watched _all_ the whores. It almost made Gojyo feel like he was worth something, and not in the sense of being a commodity.

Shoving his door shut behind him, the redhead quickly unfastened his pants as he lowered himself to the bed, mindful of his sore ribs. He caught himself as his bandaged left hand slid down his stomach, leaving it sitting across his abs as he let his undamaged right hand slip into the pants that Doku had bought for him a few days earlier.

Gojyo didn't waste any time in wrapping his hand around himself, any ideas about drawing this out disappearing as his body craved for more of even the slightest touch. It was a little awkward to wank with his right hand when he was so used to his dominant left, but he didn't really care. The shocks of pleasure running through his body as he stroked himself moderately fast made his breath catch, his cock growing in his hand.

Shivering from the sheer sensation of being touched after so long, Gojyo allowed his mind to fall into a fantasy of his favourite blonde. If he tried hard enough, he could almost _feel_ Sanzo leaning over him, kissing and licking at him stomach as the redhead played with himself.

Smiling as he broke out in pants, Gojyo moved his tunnelled hand faster, letting his thumb reach up to caress the damp head of his cock on every few upward slides. His brain then supplied a new image: a vision of a silky blonde head pressed between his thighs while Gojyo slumped against the wall, skin slick with sweat as dangerous violet eyes stared up through the fall of a messy fringe.

That thought alone almost made Gojyo's long-neglected dick explode, the hardness twitching and pulsing hotly in his hand as his grip tightened ever so slightly. He could _already_ feel release barrelling up on him, and he didn't think he could stop it; not that he wanted to.

He saw his imagined self begin to shiver and moan as the fantasy Sanzo took his entire erection into his mouth, holding it there as Gojyo came deep down his pale throat. The last thing the redhead imagined before he orgasmed in reality was the fake Sanzo pulling back and tilting his head up, showing Gojyo the small amount of come that had escaped his mouth and was now trailing down that perfect alabaster skin.

Biting down hard on his lips to keep from moaning too loudly, Gojyo let go of what little control he still had and stroked himself lightly as his dick jumped, spurting strings of white onto his hand and bare stomach. Still panting, Gojyo felt a wonderfully relaxed, lethargic sensation overtake his body, his orgasm coming fast and hard after so long.

He'd been feeling particularly exhausted after even the slightest exertion lately, and the redhead's sated body was currently moments from dropping him into unconsciousness. Using the last bit of strength he had, Gojyo reached out for a couple of tissues, half-heartedly cleaning himself up and tucking his soft cock back into his loose jeans.

Throwing the dirty tissues aside, the redhead manoeuvred himself underneath the covers of the bed, letting sleep overtake him as various visions of Sanzo began to flash through his exhausted mind.

* * *

Sanzo sat in the car, glaring angrily out at the road ahead of him. In the seat beside him, Hakkai was looking all too pleased with himself: hence the blonde's shitty mood. They were travelling in Hakkai's jeep, Sanzo's stolen car better off left behind than brought with them.

Hell, Sanzo only had a packed bag sitting in the back seat because Hakkai had taken it upon himself to gather the blonde's few belongings, the man himself happy enough to simply take his revolver, a pack of cigarettes and the clothes on his back. Not that Sanzo was planning on obeying Hakkai for long: he was going to go back, yell at Gojyo for talking shit about him, shoot Doku a few times for being an asshole, shoot Gojyo for good measure, shoot Hakkai for the fun of it, and piss off somewhere else.

Or, at least, that was the _plan_.

"You made the right decision, Sanzo," Hakkai spoke softly, shifting his gaze a little so that he could see the blonde from the corner of his eye. "I'm sure that Gojyo will be very pleased to see you."

Raising an eyebrow in disbelief, Sanzo sighed and turned his entire head towards the brunette. "That's all well and good for the little redheaded bastard, but it sounds to me like you're forgetting about a certain psychotic asshole who is Hell-bent on getting my head onto a platter."

When Hakkai just laughed softly, Sanzo felt his fists clench in anger. "Oh, Sanzo. You shouldn't worry about that; I'll get everything under control. You should simply focus on letting Gojyo know that you _are_ still alive."

"Don't. Patronize. Me," the blonde bit out, anger quickly rising through his body. "I can handle my own problems."

"You know perfectly well that I could have killed you on several occasions already. You might be too stubborn to ask for it, but even _you_ need help sometimes. Don't close yourself off, Sanzo." Hakkai's tone, despite the words, didn't change from the level, vaguely cheerful tone he usually spoke with, and that just made Sanzo even madder.

"I don't need _anyone_. Stop the jeep now or I'm jumping out; I've had enough of your _bullshit_." Sanzo's hand went to the buckle of his seatbelt, and he couldn't help the smug little smirk that appeared on his lips when Hakkai pulled into a small side street and stopped the vehicle.

"Good to see that you lis-…"

"We're here," the brunette cut over the top of Sanzo's arrogant bragging, pointing a long, delicate finger past his passenger.

"What?" Sanzo questioned dumbly, turning his head to see where Hakkai was pointing. "Oh, no. No, no, no. I'm not an idiot, Hakkai. There's no way in Hell I'm going in there."

Looking up at the somewhat familiar visage of Dokugakuji's estate, Sanzo shook his head as his mind began to yell that this was an ambush of some sort. Hakkai was setting him up; that much was obvious.

But Hakkai just sighed, tutting softly in the face of Sanzo's refusal. "Oh, I wish that you would trust me. There are several slightly-open windows on this side of the first floor; pick one, find your way upstairs, and Gojyo is in the third room on the left if you are walking towards the balcony. I will get Dokugakuji out of the house while you do…whatever it is you need to sort out with that poor man."

Sanzo scowled. He didn't like being involved in plans that he hadn't formulated himself; he didn't trust them. "And why should I believe that Gojyo is even here? Shouldn't he still be in hospital?"

"Oh, Sanzo," Hakkai exhaled softly, somehow managing to make the blonde feel like an idiot. "Do you truly think that Dokugakuji would allow his brother out of his sight after thirteen years apart? Gojyo has been living here since you…left…"

Reluctantly, Sanzo had to admit that what Hakkai said made sense. He hadn't particularly liked leaving Gojyo in the hospital either, not after all the trouble he'd gone to in order to get him back…wait, _what?_

"Dokugakuji?"

Hakkai's quiet word jolted Sanzo slightly, and he instinctively scanned the area for any sign of his former employer before realising that Hakkai was on the phone. "Yes, I have just arrived back…someone tipped him off."

Sanzo sat back and watched, realising that the brunette had to be talking about him. The story, though, was completely false.

"No one had seen him in a number of days, and his apartment was empty…Yes, I did hear word, though, that he'd spoken about returning here." Hakkai paused, and Sanzo strained to hear the words that were coming through the line; he couldn't catch anything, though.

"I think we should check his apartment here. They told me that someone had been moving around in there last night…Yes, you should certainly accompany me…Yes, Gojyo will be fine."

Sanzo's eyebrow rose. Hakkai was _serious_ about this whole thing; he was a perfect liar, too. He was doing everything in his power to force Sanzo back to Gojyo, and it was _bizarre_.

"I will be out the front of your house in three minutes. Yes, see you soon." Hakkai closed his phone, tucking it back into his pocket. Turning back to the blonde, he didn't seem surprised by the appraising look he was being sent; he just smiled cheerfully. "I believe that's your cue. I can't promise you any more than thirty minutes or so, but I will meet you here when we return. Good luck."

The topic was clearly closed, but Sanzo merely glared at Hakkai, unimpressed. "And what gives you the right to order me around?"

A rustling sound had Sanzo on edge, but it was too late: he was facing directly down the barrel of the same semi-automatic pistol that he'd taken off Hakkai the previous morning. "Because I'll kill you if you don't obey."

Furious, Sanzo slipped from the vehicle and slammed the door, bracing himself on the side as he scowled down at Hakkai. "I'll get you back for this, you conniving little snake _bastard_."

"If you say so, Hakkai replied genially while putting the gun away. With a smile and a wave, he pulled away from the sidewalk, making Sanzo lose his grip on the door or risk being pulled along. Grumbling to himself, the blonde threw his hands into the air in exasperation and stalked to the property's fence, deftly swinging himself over the top.

Now that he was here, he might as well use his anger for something constructive: like tearing a few new shreds off a certain mouthy redhead. What _nerve_, talking about Sanzo the minute he woke up.

It seemed like the perfect opportunity for some idiot bashing.

* * *

Gojyo stirred lightly as he heard a noise out in the hall, but he desperately tried to cling onto his rather interesting dream about Sanzo and a hot tub.

It was lost forever, though, when the door to his room suddenly slammed open. Gojyo bolted upright in shock, gasping in pain as his body violently protested the sudden movements.

The figure at the door made no move to come any closer, and Gojyo squinted through the dim lighting of the room; it was too short to be Jien, and Hakkai wouldn't enter a room like that. Security basically acted as if they weren't really there, so…

"_Gojyo_."

The low growl sent chills down the redhead's spine, the sensations centering directly down into his cock. He _knew_ that voice; it was impossible, but he knew that angry, snarling, _sexy_ voice.

"Sanzo?"

* * *

*******Sorry, sorry, sorry about the wait. I just couldn't get the ideas in my head to come out onto the page right. I'm also coming up to exams soon, so I might be posting even more sporadically than usual.

And anyone who knows what movie the jumpsuit-scissor-men come from, you win my eternal admiration.*******


	42. Chapter 42: We Connect

*******Misty, I have the scenario for that conversation all worked out, but they really haven't had much in the way of easy conversation time lately (…or at all). But it'll be in here somewhere!

Also: this chapter is sadly devoid of any Big Lebowski references. One day I'm going to write a fic where every chapter has some sort of reference to a different film, and it'll be like a big guessing game to find it each time. But that's irrelevant right now.*******

* * *

"_Sanzo?_" Gojyo repeated more urgently, throwing back the bedcovers as the sleep-induced blurriness in his eyes lessened, the man at the door coming into focus.

"Hn. So you _are_ awake," came the bored reply, Sanzo's deep voice easily recognisable as the shocked redhead launched himself from the bed, heading straight for the figure that he _hoped_ wasn't just a hallucination.

Sanzo seemed to guess exactly what was about to happen and he stepped to the side, hoping to dodge Gojyo's approach; but the redhead anticipated Sanzo's movement and compensated, easily wrapping his long arms around the shorter man and yanking him close.

"I fucking _hate_ you, you heartless bastard," Gojyo muttered into the hair of the struggling man, relief flooding through him even as his torso and broken hand ached with agonising pain. "They told me you were _dead_. Where were you?"

Despite the fact that Sanzo was repeatedly elbowing him in the ribs and generally just being harder to hold than a temperamental cat, Gojyo stubbornly hung onto the man that he'd _almost_ resigned himself to never seeing again. He could feel the backs of his eyes prickling, but he forced himself to hide any sense of weakness from Sanzo.

"Where did you _go_?" Gojyo repeated, breathing deep as the scent of expensive cologne assaulted his nose. His legs were shaking, and if his hands hadn't been clutching so tightly at Sanzo then he knew that they would be shaking violently as well.

"_Let. Me. Go." _Sanzo's response was slightly muffled from where the blonde's face was pressed tightly into Gojyo. The taller man just shook his head, his heart pounding. He didn't want to _ever_ release Sanzo again- particularly as he wasn't entirely convinced that he was actually awake.

"Nope. Now stop struggling, you asshole."

A familiar clicking noise made Gojyo wince slightly as something hard pressed into his side, Sanzo clearly not happy with the contact that the redhead was forcing upon him. "I repeat: Let me go, you idiotic prick."

"Shoot me if you _really_ want, I guess. Not like I give a fuck." Even the gun to his torso couldn't convince Gojyo to let go of the man he loved. Not that he was planning on telling Sanzo that right now: the man would run away the moment he found out.

Gojyo didn't want to risk losing him again.

A sudden, sharp blow to the stomach knocked the air from the redhead's lungs, and his tight grip on the fighting man accidentally loosened as he gasped. Sanzo took the opportunity to twist away and step back, still holding his revolver out in Gojyo's direction. His hair was mussed from struggling against the taller man's shirtless body, and anger shone bright in his dangerous violet eyes.

"Maybe I _will_ shoot you, if it'll stop you from talking shit about me to your _brother_." The last word practically spat from Sanzo's mouth, sounding more like an insult than anything else.

"What? What do you have against Jien?" Gojyo rubbed his good hand against the bruise he could feel forming on his bare stomach, confused as to why Sanzo sounded so bitter towards his boss. Had something happened while he was asleep?

Sanzo lowered his gun, settling for keeping Gojyo in place with a venomous glare. "It's none of your business."

As someone who'd never liked being kept out of the loop, Gojyo felt his blood begin to boil, the swirl of emotions running through him putting him right on edge. There was so much that Sanzo was keeping from him, and it _hurt_. It actually hurt Gojyo to know that Sanzo didn't trust him.

"And where you've _been_ since I…I overdosed? Is that none of my business either? Sanzo, I…"

"Don't be a _fool_," Sanzo snapped over the top of Gojyo. "There are things that you don't _ever_ want to know, so shut your ever-flapping lips and go back to whatever the Hell it was that you did before you shoved your way into my life."

Gojyo took a step forward, Sanzo mirroring the movement and maintaining the distance between them. Giving up trying to get closer, the redhead settled for allowing built-up anger and grief to explode in a cloud of furious accusations. "I did _what? _Last time I checked, _you_ approached me first. _You_ found me in the street the next day. _You _asked me for help about Banri. Oh, and what was it that happened in the alley one night? That's right, _you_ beat the shit out of my client. If one of us has the right to be pissed off, it's _me._"

Sanzo opened his mouth to say something, but Gojyo just raised his voice and kept going, not willing to hear the blonde out until he'd finished his own piece. "And then what did you do? You fucking took off. I _needed_ you when I woke up, Sanzo, but you'd just pissed the Hell off without even leaving so much as a note."

The blonde opened his mouth again, paused, closed it and tilted his head to the side, a questioning look on his face. "You _needed_ me? You had your bas-…brother. How many different people did you need to _fawn_ over you? Don't be a dick."

Feeling a slight flush start heating his cheeks, Gojyo swallowed hard and looked to the side, unable to look directly into Sanzo's intense stare.

"I…" he began, cutting off when he realised the corner he was about to talk himself into. Immediately going into defence, the redhead scowled and looked up again. "This isn't about _me_. This is about you letting everyone think that you were dead, you asshole!"

The subject change was painfully obvious, but Sanzo seemed to run with it.

"_Who_ thought I was dead?" He asked suspiciously, eyes narrowing dangerously.

"…Jien told me…he and Hakkai told me that you went on a job and disappeared. They thought you'd _died_, Sanzo. Have you seen 'em? Do they know you're alive?"

"Those _bastards_," Sanzo snapped as his fists clenched, fury written all over his features. Gojyo had to resist the urge to take a step away from the raging man; his survival instincts were screaming at him to get away. He couldn't leave, though. He didn't _want_ to let Sanzo out of his sight.

When the blonde suddenly whirled around, taking a step towards the still-open door, Gojyo forgot about his worries for his own safety. Taking longer and faster strides, he easily caught Sanzo before the man could leave the room, wrapping his arms around the blonde from the back this time. "Don't leave me, Sanzo."

There was more sheer _emotion_ in Gojyo's voice than he would have liked, and it was obvious that Sanzo had picked up on that fact. The blonde went perfectly still for a moment, the only sound in the room Gojyo's heavier-than-usual breathing; and then his fingers pressed painfully into the redhead's toned forearms.

"Don't start relying on me. I'm only here because it suits me. One day it won't anymore."

"Oh, cut the _shit_," Gojyo growled in a low voice. "You have emotions like any other guy; I've seen them. You're not as detached as you'd like to think."

Taking a chance, the redhead let his hands loosen around Sanzo's torso, slipping down to caress the blonde's sides through his suit jacket. When Sanzo made no move to escape, Gojyo gently pulled him back against his bare chest, shivering a little at the feel of much-needed human contact.

"And what, exactly, gives you _that_ idea?" Despite his allowance for Gojyo to hold him, Sanzo's tone didn't change at all. His body was tensed against the taller man's, but Gojyo couldn't say he was surprised about that.

Swallowing down any lingering reticence, Gojyo threw caution to the wind and allowed his right hand to travel again, letting his fingers dance across covered abdominals. "The fact that you're here…that I'm holding you…and _this_…"

Praying silently that Sanzo really _was_ just like any other man he'd ever serviced, at least biologically, Gojyo slipped his hand down to cup the blonde's groin. He was half hard; Gojyo gave a slight victory squeeze, running his palm across Sanzo's covered cock and feeling the man's body melt into him the slightest bit.

"Don't…" Sanzo began, but Gojyo quickly cut off any argument with another skilful movement of his hand. He pressed his lips against the blonde's pulse point and nipped softly at it, finally letting his tongue lave at it before pulling his head away.

"You shouldn't deny yourself…or _me_. Please, Sanzo. Stay with me for now." Trying to offset the plea by speaking with a seductive purr, Gojyo played his fingers against the zip of Sanzo's dress pants, slowly drawing the tab down. "Let me l…help you."

Predictably, Sanzo didn't say a thing in response. But his lack of struggling and resistance gave Gojyo hope like he hadn't felt in years: hope that _maybe_ he would be able to convince Sanzo to stick around.

"Just relax…" Used to undressing both himself and others while one hand was otherwise occupied, Gojyo managed to manoeuvrer Sanzo's belt open with his good hand after downing the fly, flicking the button open so that just a little encouragement had the black pants pooling on the floor. The redhead dipped into the other's underwear and wrapped his hand around Sanzo's mostly-hard cock, giving a few gentle pulls as Sanzo kicked his shoes off.

The jacket and deep purple shirt disappeared just as quickly while Gojyo teased Sanzo's cock to full hardness, long fingers knowing exactly what to do to bring the blonde's pleasure quickly. When Sanzo let out the slightest shaky breath, Gojyo released him, moving his good hand to the older man's waist and prompting him to turn.

Looking down into the features that Sanzo was clearly trying to keep unaffected, Gojyo smiled and felt his own cock press into the front of his jeans. The man was gorgeous with the smallest hint of blood in his upper cheeks, hooded eyes diverted away to the side in a gesture of token denial.

Gojyo leaned down to gently capture frowning lips with his own, wrapping his left arm around the back of Sanzo's waist while his right slipped between them, fingers curling around the blonde's hard dick again. Although Sanzo initially seemed to resist actively returning Gojyo's kiss, his hands soon came to bury themselves in long, red hair and he opened his lips to an eager tongue, forcing the muscle back with his own and effectively taking control of the kiss.

For his part, Gojyo was happy to let the blonde take over. It meant that Sanzo was truly involved, if the growing of his cock in the taller man's hand wasn't indication enough. When Sanzo made to pull back, though, Gojyo attempted to follow the retreating lips, gasping slightly in pain when the hands in his hair gripped hard and forced his head to stop moving.

"Sanzo…" the redhead breathed, both hands moving up to cup the other man's face. A slight flash of irritation flashed across Sanzo's face from the tender-seeming motion, but it was quickly covered by the neutrality that the blonde seemed to use whenever he was trying to hide something.

"Gojyo. I can't," Sanzo said firmly, his hands coming up to grab Gojyo's wrists and bring them down, away from his face. "I can't do this right now."

"But why _not_?" Gojyo exploded, stepping back and looking at the naked and aroused man standing in front of him. His own cock was pressing insistently against his jeans, wanting out to be stroked and fondled by Sanzo. By this point, he was almost ready to _beg_ for Sanzo to stay with him.

"Because I…" Trailing off, Sanzo's eyes darted around the room in a moment of indecision before pure determination took over his features, his face hardening as he attempted to stare Gojyo down. "I'm leaving."

Gojyo felt his breath catch in his throat. When Sanzo crouched down to retrieve his clothes, the redhead fell with him, landing on his knees in front of the man who was eyeing him suspiciously. Grabbing Sanzo's arm as he reached for his pants, Gojyo forcefully tugged the man forward until he had to rest on his knees to stay balanced.

Not waiting for Sanzo to say or do anything else, Gojyo cupped the back of the blonde head with his right hand, leaning forward until his forehead was resting against Sanzo's own. "Sanzo…I thought you were _dead_. I didn't think I'd ever get to see you again. So please…don't leave me alone. Let me make you feel good."

From this close angle Gojyo couldn't see Sanzo's expression, and he braced himself for the headbutt that would probably knock him out, or at least disable him for a while. The pain didn't come, though; instead, Sanzo kept perfectly still, allowing the touch of Gojyo's face to his own.

"I missed you," Gojyo whispered softly, almost hoping that the blonde wouldn't hear. It was obvious that he did, though: Sanzo's demeanour changed almost instantly. Standing up so abruptly that Gojyo's fingers must have pulled his hair before the redhead thought to let go, Sanzo pointed to the bed.

"You sound pathetic. Get your ass onto that mattress…and I'm only doing this because you got me worked up, _understand_?"

Gojyo refused to let himself feel hurt by Sanzo's rejection of even the slightest hint of emotion. He _knew_ that it was nothing more than a defence mechanism; he _knew_ that Sanzo was reacting the only way he could. And he was damned horny, so really…

Who was he to deny an authoritative Sanzo? The man was undeniably sexy when he became so…_dominating_.

Standing up and shucking off his jeans, Gojyo fell back to lay on the bed and let his good hand rest over his groin, gently palming the raging hard-on that had been begging for attention.

His eyes widened and his hand paused in its movement as he realised something important, though. "Sanzo…I don't have any condoms here."

Even though Gojyo was one hundred percent certain that he was clean, he knew that Sanzo wouldn't take his word for it. Not that he blamed the man: he was just a whore, after all. No one _ever_ took a whore entirely at their word, unless they were an idiot.

The scathing look that Sanzo gave him would have been enough to make a lesser man go soft. Gojyo, though, only got harder: he was either stupid or masochistic.

'_Probably both,' _he thought with a twitch of his lips. He could probably talk Sanzo into wristies or blowjobs…the man would probably take those without demanding protection…

When Sanzo bent over and reached for his pants again, Gojyo sat upright and opened his mouth, wondering what he could possibly say now to make the blonde stay. He'd already swallowed his last remaining bits of pride and practically begged Sanzo to stay; he'd done everything except tell the man outright that he loved him.

And doing that would most likely achieve nothing other than making Sanzo leave faster.

To Gojyo's utter shock, Sanzo dropped the pants again almost immediately after picking them up. When he turned back around, his fingers were dipping into the slightly-worn leather of his wallet. A moment of irrationality hit the redhead's brain, and pain squeezed his heart when he thought that Sanzo was going to simply chuck some cash at him- _again_- and leave.

He didn't want Sanzo to treat him like a prostitute. He didn't think he _could_ handle that…

Sanzo seemed to sense Gojyo's sudden mental panic, and he directed a condescending stare down at the redhead. "You shouldn't think so hard. I'm guessing that your imbecilic brain isn't used to it."

"But…"

"I thought you wanted me to fuck you. So shut your trap and spread your legs."

The wallet was thrown aside as Sanzo stalked towards the bed, a small foil square held between two fingers. Gojyo's heart stopped as he realised what it was, and he let his torso slump back onto the mattress with a bitter laugh.

He might not have been a masochist, but he was _definitely _stupid.

Complying with Sanzo's order, Gojyo presented himself in submission and allowed Sanzo to know he was the one calling the shots. Returning his hand to his groin, he slowly began to play with himself as Sanzo watched, the blonde's cock twitching slightly as a small bead of precome appeared on the head.

Obviously, _someone_ liked what he saw.

"Ah…" Gojyo groaned in a low voice, pleasure making his tone rough. "Fuck me. Take me…_now_."

A pale eyebrow arched at the borderline demand, but Sanzo still tore the condom wrapper open, quickly rolling the latex over his large erection. "Thought I told you to shut up."

Gojyo let the smirk take over his lips, his hand still pumping lazily over his dick. "I've never been good with obedience."

"Tch."

Planting one hand firmly on the centre of Gojyo's chest, Sanzo crawled onto the bed and knelt between the taller man's spread legs. As direct as always, he didn't waste any time in moving both hands to Gojyo's hips and tilting them upwards, slinging one long leg over his shoulder and positioning his cock at Gojyo's unprepared entrance.

The experienced redhead consciously relaxed his body, knowing exactly how to take a dick without getting hurt. It was something he'd _had_ to learn on the streets, and it seemed to be coming in handy an awful lot with Sanzo. The man just didn't seem to want to waste any time. Ever.

Breathing deeply, Gojyo's back arched off the mattress as he was slowly entered. His ass hurt slightly, his broken hand hurt, and his ribs felt like they were getting worse rather than better: but he didn't give a shit. Mental and physical exhaustion were nothing to him when he had _Sanzo_ above him, penetrating his body and making him feel like he was _worthy_.

Thirty minutes ago, he'd been grieving over the beautiful blonde who was the only person he'd ever fallen in love with.

Now, he was in heaven.

* * *

Sanzo bit back a rumbling groan as he buried himself to the hilt in Gojyo, feeling the man arch up into him and sigh contentedly. This…this was what he'd been after. He could barely remember why he'd been so reluctant to throw the redhead down and screw him senseless.

Something to do with the man's brother, surely…

Sanzo gave up on thinking when he felt Gojyo begin to writhe beneath him, the feeling around his dick driving him towards insanity after being plagued by teasing dreams for several nights.

He _wanted_ Gojyo. He couldn't see why he should refuse anymore…just this once. Bracing himself on the mattress to either side of less-tanned-than-usual shoulders, the blonde pulled back and thrust hard into Gojyo, pulling a small '_yes_' from the redhead's lips.

The needy sound drove his desire higher, and he began to pound into the toned body that he hadn't seen in motion for too long. Gojyo met each and every thrust with a tilt of his hips and a small noise, slowly growing in volume and enthusiasm as Sanzo continued to fuck him stupid.

It was obvious when Gojyo began to near his orgasm, the canting of his hips becoming erratic and his voice cracking from sheer pleasure as his small cries became loud moans, the sounds almost hurting Sanzo's ears. The blonde himself didn't feel close to coming, and in a moment of borderline torture he slowed his pace down, causing Gojyo to wordlessly plead for more.

Feeling a smug smile tug at the corner of his mouth, Sanzo forced himself to thrust slowly and simply revel in the feeling of Gojyo around him. Caught up in _feeling_, the blonde was shocked when he somehow ended up on his back, Gojyo settling firmly on his hips and tossing back his red mane.

"Two can play at _that_ game," purred the taller man, fingers digging into Sanzo's pale skin. His leg muscles worked as he forced the pace of their sex up again, thoroughly fucking himself on the blonde's cock. "Just…_touch _me. Please."

Sanzo could have laughed when he realised that the new position meant that Gojyo couldn't even jerk himself off without losing control. He had to admit, he was impressed by the fact that Gojyo had managed to catch him off-guard and switch their roles; and so he reached a hand down to grasp the redhead's pulsing cock, wanking him fast and hard.

"_Fuck_," Gojyo gasped as shivers ran through him, his hips pumping ever harder on Sanzo. "I'm close…_Sanzo…_god…"

Still keeping silent, Sanzo thrust himself up into Gojyo's movements, too lost in the moment to be bothered by the fact that the redhead had thoroughly taken over. The man's sheer enthusiasm was driving him towards a long-withheld release, and he didn't want to hold it off.

Gojyo's hips bucked up and into Sanzo's hand, his mouth hanging open as a stream of moans and curses flowed out. "Sanzo…I…I…_fuck_…"

Sanzo arched up off the bed as the start of Gojyo's release began to trigger his own, a gasp escaping his lips before he firmly closed them. He didn't want to let anything stupid escape in the heat of the moment.

Not that he had anything to say.

Feeling the hard cock in his hand grow and pulse as come jumped from the head, Sanzo's hips thrust up wildly as he felt himself release into the condom. His panting breaths went unheard under Gojyo's eardrum-shattering yell.

"_Fucking __**hell!**_"

A sweaty mop of hair landed on Sanzo's chest as the man above him collapsed completely, body shaking from pleasurable exhaustion. Loud panting filled the room, but Sanzo's keen hearing picked up something underneath it…something…

'_Footsteps…__**fuck**_."

Sanzo's instincts had him trying to dislodge Gojyo as his mind supplied the worst case scenario of what was happening outside. The door opened before he could do anything, though, and he was stuck in place as Gojyo jerked to face the new arrivals, still perched on his hips.

"Gojyo, I heard shouting, are you…" Dokugakuji's expression changed from worried to utterly shocked in less than a second as he took in the scene, words leaving him when he saw his brother, naked and sweaty, sitting on top of an equally-dishevelled Sanzo.

Hakkai was staring blankly into the room, but Sanzo could practically _feel_ the fury radiating from the brunette. So _that_ was why he'd been reluctant to stay…Hakkai had warned him that his window of opportunity was limited.

Clearly, his afternoon quickie hadn't been quite quick enough.

Gojyo, eyes shining brightly as he looked from his brother to the man below him and back again, smiled widely and without a hint of shame at being caught in the act with another man. "He's alive. Sanzo's _alive_."

When Doku finally replied after several tense moments of silence, his voice shared none of the relief and glee that his sibling showed. Rather, his tone was thick with barely-restrained anger, danger emanating from each syllable that he spoke.

"I can _see_ that."


	43. Chapter 43: You Rebel

*******I'm going to warn you: this chapter has slight mentions of Gojyo's none-too-happy life as a child prostitute. It's nothing too over-the-top, but I would just prefer people to be forewarned.*******

* * *

Letting out an irritable sigh at Dokugakuji's murderous tone, Sanzo clenched his fists tight in an attempt to keep from retrieving his gun and shooting the three other men. His possible escape routes were nonexistent, and he knew that he would die before he could kill both Doku _and_ Hakkai.

Right now, his only choice came down to whether he should get Gojyo off his cock, or if he should let the redhead stay on him as a human shield. He really couldn't imagine that Doku, despite the ruthlessness that had allowed him to climb to the top echelons of organised crime, would shoot his own brother over what boiled down to a personal insult.

So, deciding to let Gojyo stay where he was, Sanzo unclenched his hands and let his fingers gently caress the naked, toned thighs that were straddling his hips. It was a mostly subconscious move on his part, some small act of reassurance to the tensing man sitting above him.

Although the blonde couldn't see the expression on the younger man's face, he could feel the worry and confusion beginning to rush through Gojyo's form. Looking past the far-too-enticing body that he was still buried in, Sanzo glared at the short-haired man who seemed caught between fury, confusion and mortification.

Gojyo, for his part, was simply stuck looking between his brother and his lover, half-formed questions muddling his brain and cutting off higher reasoning.

"You're a bigger prick than I thought, Sanzo."

The dangerous ice laced through Doku's tone wasn't enough to harm Sanzo's thickened hide, but Gojyo flinched as if he'd been physically slapped.

"J-…Jien? What…" His now-weak tone trailing off, Gojyo quickly glanced down at the foot of the bed and grabbed a blanket, lifting himself away from Sanzo's hips and hands before turning his body to face the doorway. In one fluid flick of his wrist the blanket came to settle across the bodies of the exposed pair, the redhead sitting cross-legged beside Sanzo's slightly-propped form. After a second of thought, he lifted the blanket a little and casually leaned across to pull Sanzo's condom off, tying it up and lobbing it into the bin while Doku flushed slightly.

Doku ignored the aborted question, his gaze not straying from Sanzo's piercing eyes for even a moment. Sitting up properly, the blonde ignored the slowly-drying mess on his stomach and used one hand to shove unruly strands of hair from his face, lifting a single eyebrow in a silent demand for elucidation.

Doku sneered, his expression hardening even further to reach a point that even Sanzo had barely witnessed. Judging by the way Gojyo subtly shifted closer to him, as if slightly scared or wary, the blonde guessed that this side of Doku was new territory for the man's brother.

"Breaking into _my_ house, taking advantage of _my_ brother: you just _had_ to come back and see what you could get away with, didn't you?" The older man paused, his glare intensifying for a second before sliding across to pin Gojyo in place, softening only slightly towards his new target. "Gojyo, put your clothes on and go downstairs. I have _business_ to discuss with my _former employee._"

"Wha-…Hang on a minute, what the _fuck _is goin' on?" Gojyo's hand tightened in the blanket covering his lap, his messy hair swinging wildly as he turned his gaze back and forth between Sanzo and Doku. "Former? Jien, why didn't you say anything to…"

"This isn't your concern, Gojyo. Get dressed and…go watch TV or something."

Sanzo had to work to stop a smug little smirk from twisting his lips. He could almost _feel_ Gojyo's confusion turn into anger, Dokugakuji's exasperated, condescending words possibly the worst thing he could have said in the situation. Resting back slightly, the blonde prepared to watch the emotional fireworks.

When Gojyo stood up and swiftly snagged his jeans from the floor, though, Sanzo felt somewhat taken aback.

Did the bastard really have _that_ much control over the seemingly-incorrigible redhead? Would Gojyo take his brother's side over Sanzo's?

The blonde paused at that. Of _course_ Gojyo would be on Dokugakuji's side. They were family, and although Sanzo couldn't say that he had much experience in that area, he knew that he would have done the same for the only man he considered to be _his_ family.

But a raised, deadly-sounding voice broke Sanzo out of contemplation. Looking up from where his gaze had lowered to the mattress, he saw that Gojyo was standing shirtless at the foot of the bed, arms crossed protectively over his chest.

"Who the _fuck_ do you think you're talking to?"

Looking past Gojyo's back to the men in the doorway, Sanzo saw that Doku's expression was tense and strained, while Hakkai was curiously neutral. The older man replied to Gojyo's angry question with an uncertain, "Huh?"

…It looked as if Sanzo had read the situation wrong. Maybe Gojyo _wouldn't_ be so quick to run back to his long-estranged brother, despite blood ties. With an almost morbid curiosity, Sanzo focused his complete attention on the siblings.

"I dunno if you _noticed_ this, but I'm not eight years old anymore. Don't talk to me like I am." A toned arm reached towards the taller man, an index finger jabbing Dokugakuji in the chest.

Sanzo almost laughed at the way Doku twitched from the action.

"Gojyo, there are things you don't need to know. Just let me deal with…_him_." The pronoun was spat out like it left a bad taste in Doku's mouth, and a dark pair of eyes suddenly bored right into Sanzo's own.

The blonde met the glare unflinchingly, and Doku broke the stare only when Gojyo began speaking again.

"Things that I _don't need to know_? For fuck's sake, do you know what I _really_ didn't need to know? I didn't _need_ to know that there are pigs who'll pay fifty bucks to fuck a little boy in a dirty alley. I didn't _need_ to know that telling them 'no' would just make them knock me out, then leave me asleep and slumped behind a dumpster after they'd finished. I didn't need to know, _Dokugakuji_, that some men get off on shoving a knife handle into a kid's ass before they put their cock there."

By this point, Doku was looking positively _green_. His mouth kept opening and closing, his eyebrows repeatedly twitching together as he tried to think of something to do, something to _say_.

Sanzo had to admit that he couldn't entirely blame the older man for his inability to react. The blonde had always known that he had been lucky to have had a gun to keep the freaks away, but it was only now that he realised _just_ how lucky he'd been.

And he just kept returning to the thought, '_No wonder he tried to kill himself.'_

But Gojyo wasn't quite finished. Breathing heavily, shoulders shaking from emotion or exertion, his voice fell to a softer, sadder tone. "You left me to fend for myself. You should've _realised_ that I wouldn't be able to. I couldn't even stop your mother from…from…Jien, I _knew_ what you were doing with her to keep her from freaking out too much. I'm glad you were trying to protect me then, but it's different now. You don't have the right to try and protect me anymore, and I don't need it. It's too late."

Turning back towards Sanzo, Gojyo took a few slow steps and stopped by the side of the bed. A small shake of his head dropped his fringe in front of his eyes, but not before Sanzo could see the moisture welling up there.

The mattress dipped when Gojyo crawled back on, curling up on his side next to Sanzo. The blonde shifted back, sitting up in the bed so that his spine could rest against the frame.

Gojyo's face rose at the movement and he promptly moved as well, turning so that his head was resting on Sanzo's blanket-covered thigh. An uncomfortable moment passed before Sanzo gingerly slid a hand into red hair.

"Are you _done_?" He asked the man in the doorway, a strange possessiveness welling up in his chest as the tangled strands slipped over his fingers. Doku seemed almost frozen where he stood, and the quiet man beside him was still simply observing the situation without interfering.

If he didn't already have enough to think about, Sanzo would have been trying to figure out where Hakkai's loyalties were placed, the brunette having utterly surprised him several times in recent days.

That, though, was insignificant compared to the shaking man slowly moving closer to him, and the man in the doorway who was out for his blood.

The man whose expression had just turned back into his initial rage.

"I swear to _God_, Sanzo, you've got _five seconds_ before I…"

"_Dokugakuji_." The venomous rant was utterly silenced by a single harsh word, Hakkai's first since his and Doku's arrival at the door. Two gazes snapped directly to the brunette, with Gojyo still pressing his face into Sanzo's leg.

"Hakkai, he went against me. You know how _that_ is dealt with."

Shaking his head, the brunette spared a sad glance in Gojyo and Sanzo's direction before turning to face Doku, putting a hand on the taller man's shoulder. "You do it now and you will just harm Gojyo. This isn't the time or the place for such a thing."

Doku looked like he was about to argue, but another look at his curled-up brother made the determined look in his eyes disappear completely.

"I…guess I see your point. But don't think I'm finished with _you_. I'll be back to see my brother after he gets some sleep; don't be here, Sanzo." Although it wasn't spoken out loud, the '…or I'll kill you' was painfully obvious to the blonde, and he wondered if his luck was about to run out.

As the pair at the door turned and walked away, Sanzo looked down at the man now pressed right up against his leg, body still quaking slightly. The loudest sound in the room was Gojyo's hitching breath and Sanzo simply let the silence go on, his fingers lightly stroking blood-coloured hair.

Eventually, he felt the head under his hand move. "Are they gone yet?"

"Yeah," he answered simply, curling his hand back up to rest against his stomach. Gojyo murmured something incomprehensible before rolling onto his back, shifting again so that he could rest the back of his head on Sanzo's thigh.

Being so…_intimate _with the half-naked redhead while mostly naked himself and without the distraction of Doku made Sanzo feel uncomfortable, and his fingers clenched and unclenched against his stomach as he wondered whether to push Gojyo away.

He wasn't sure why he _didn't_ just stand up and walk away with his life and health intact. Maybe it was the way those sad eyes looked right into his own; maybe it was because he thought Gojyo was heading right towards his breaking point.

A sudden memory of Gojyo sitting on his bed, bottle of pills in hand, made Sanzo shiver. He didn't want Gojyo to be driven that far again.

At this point, the redhead was one of the only reasons he was still alive; due to Dokugakuji's sense of brotherly protection, of course.

"…You wanna tell me what all that was about?" The question was quiet, uncertain. It had none of the demand that the earlier version did, and Sanzo sighed. He couldn't do it.

He couldn't tell Gojyo that he was leaving again.

"Do you _really_ want to know how our world works? How your _brother_ works? I'm not saying that you can't handle it. I'm just saying that you won't be able to forget what I tell you, whether you want to or not."

"If it's about why my brother wants you…to…is this about _me?_ Is he giving you a hard time about _me_? Oh, that son of a _whore_…"

Sanzo blinked at the sudden outburst, and the only thing he could think to do was deny everything. "No, it's not like that. I…made a bad decision, and it…cost your brother. Loyalty is everything in what we do, and if it had've been anyone else, I would've been the one taking them out, and the job would be done by now. I'm only still alive because of you and Hakkai."

Gojyo's forehead creased and his gaze hardened, emotional defences falling perfectly into place. Sanzo could see the vulnerable confusion dissolving into anger; he just had to wait for the outburst, now.

"Is that what…_this_ was about? A _thank you? _What, are you gonna go and fuck Hakkai next? Show your gratitude to him as well?"

Sanzo wasn't entirely sure what the problem was. Gojyo had clearly read too far into something: he was here because…because Hakkai had told him to be?

But Hakkai had told him to be quick. Why had he stayed if…

Once again, Sanzo didn't have the answer. He just knew that Gojyo was being a prissy little bitch, and he wasn't going to take it.

"I bet Hakkai would be a lot less of a _stupid asshole_ than you are. You know what? Fuck you. You're an idiot, your brother is an even bigger idiot, and I don't have to listen to this shit. I suppose I'll see you _never_."

Sharply jerking his thigh out from underneath Gojyo's head, Sanzo swung his legs off the bed and grabbed his pants, shoving his legs through them with more force than was necessary. Spotting his shirt crumpled up on the ground, he was pulling that over his head when strong arms came from behind to clutch at his chest.

_Dammit_, this same hold had broken his resolve earlier; he could already feel his anger starting to bleed away slightly.

"I'm sorry, Sanzo. Really, I am. It's just that I…Well, I…"

The faltering voice was accompanied by a loosening of Gojyo's arms, and Sanzo took the opportunity to step away, pulling his shirt down properly and turning to face the younger man. Gojyo's eyes were averted to the floor, his hair still obscuring a large portion of his face. Sanzo couldn't tell where the other man was heading with his aborted speech.

"It's just _what, _Gojyo?" His tone didn't come out anywhere near as harsh as he would have liked, but Gojyo still flinched slightly and shook his hair even further into his face.

"I…Oh, for _fuck's_ sake," the taller man suddenly exploded, tossing his head back so that a curtain of red flew through the air before settling down his back. The lost expression was replaced by an only-slightly-fake-looking smirk, the kind of expression that Sanzo was beginning to associate solely with Gojyo. "Let's get the fuck out of here."

"…What?"

"I'm sick of being cooped up. A fuckin' mansion really ain't my style, and you need to be somewhere else, so…after you!" The redhead made a sweeping gesture in the direction of the second storey room's window, making Sanzo stare at him in utter disbelief.

"And where exactly do you propose that we go? It won't take him long to realise we…_you're _not here."

Gojyo waved him off, walking over to the window and opening it so that he could inspect the surroundings. "Ah, just like I thought…You ever climbed down a pipe, Sanzo?"

Torn between laughing and hitting Gojyo for his utter ridiculousness, Sanzo just settled for disbelief. "Of _course_ I have. But do you really want to do this?"

The smile that Gojyo flashed him was positively dazzling, and Sanzo couldn't help but wonder where the curled-up man from earlier had disappeared to. _This_ was the Gojyo he'd met that first night: the Gojyo that had irritated him, pissed him off, and utterly fascinated him.

"Why? You _scared?_ C'mon, man, I thought you had bigger balls than that."

Sighing and rolling his eyes in submission, Sanzo pushed past Gojyo and hoisted himself onto the windowsill. "You never told me where we're going."

"Does it really matter?"

"Guess not," Sanzo acquiesced as he tested the strength of the pipe running down to the ground, pulling himself out of the window and beginning the careful climb to solid Earth.

* * *

*******Ah, and so Gojyo finally gets to hold his own ground again. It was a little odd, writing him as being so submissive for the last while, but it was simply how the story had to progress.

Anyway, sorry for the long wait. I'm done with exams for another few months now, so my updating speed should increase again. Hopefully, you haven't given up on me!*******


	44. Chapter 44: We Argue

Sanzo stalked down the footpath like a man on a mission, his stride fast and sure even though he had no idea where he was heading. He just knew that he needed to get the Hell away from Dokugakuji's property.

Gojyo was following a few feet behind with his right arm wrapped around his ribs. Climbing out the window had seemed like a good idea at the time, but it had put a lot of strain on his still-damaged body. He might have been feeling better than he had a few days earlier, but that wasn't really saying much.

Every time that Gojyo attempted to catch up to the blonde, Sanzo simply walked faster; it had gotten to the point where Sanzo was almost jogging to get away and Gojyo couldn't physically walk any faster without hurting himself further. In the end, he'd just given up and allowed the grumpy man to keep the distance between them.

But the silence was starting to grate on his nerves: they'd been walking for twenty minutes now, gradually entering the main business district of the city from the upper-class residential area. Coming from this direction, it almost seemed like a perfectly nice place; nothing like the graffiti-lined alleyways and half-conscious junkies that lined the path from Gojyo's apartment to the city centre.

He actually couldn't remember ever having walked down this way, and had absolutely no idea where Sanzo was taking him.

"Hey, Blondie," Gojyo tried, calling to the man walking ahead of him. There was no response, and the redhead frowned slightly. He hated being ignored.

"_Saaan-_zo," he sang teasingly, watching the slight way that Sanzo's shoulders tensed at being addressed that way. The blonde didn't turn around or slow at all, though, and Gojyo sighed loudly.

"Either stop making such a fucking racket or leave me _alone_," Sanzo finally replied, tossing a quick glare over his shoulder.

Gojyo just grinned. "Now now, be nice. It's not everyday you get to be seen with someone as sexy as me."

"I never _asked_ you to follow me," Sanzo growled, keeping his gaze locked firmly ahead of him. Laughing, Gojyo quickly snuck up behind the other man and leant down slightly to speak right into his ear.

"Maybe, but I asked _you_ to come with _me_, and you agreed. That says something, don't ya think?"

Gojyo had to dodge to the side to avoid walking straight into Sanzo's back when the man suddenly stopped. "Hey! Give a guy some warning!"

Sanzo gave a low, disgusted sigh, squeezing his eyes shut and pinching at the bridge of his nose. When he looked up again, he saw that Gojyo's red eyes were trained on his own, the man watching him carefully.

"I never thought I'd say this, but you have a point." Gojyo looked momentarily surprised before breaking out into a smile; he opened his mouth to say something, but Sanzo wasn't quite finished. "So that then gives me the right to rescind that agreement. Goodbye, Gojyo. Go home."

The blonde turned away before he could see the way that Gojyo's face fell, hurt crossing his features before they schooled themselves into anger. Sanzo only made it a few steps before a strong hand gripped the back of his shirt, nearly pulling him off his feet as he was forced to trip backwards into a solid chest.

"_Home_, Sanzo? You mean the place where my brother has control over everything for me? Or the joint that my pimp payed for while I bent over for anyone who could pony up the cash?"

An involuntary shiver ran down Sanzo's spine at the low growl right beside his ear, harsh breaths and soft hair tickling his throat. The hand still in the back of his shirt loosened slightly, but before he could move away it tightened again, the material straining across his chest from the pressure. "I don't have a _home_, Sanzo, and I haven't _ever_ had one. I also don't take well to being ordered around like that; if I didn't take it from Jien, what makes you think that I'm going to listen to you?"

Snarling, Sanzo fell to his instincts and reached for the pistol he had tucked in his pants, not caring who on the streets saw him. He turned to try and release himself from Gojyo's grip, only to stumble a little when he was easily released. Catching himself before he could fall, the blonde rested his hand on the still-hidden gun and glared at Gojyo.

The redhead crossed his arms over his chest, a defiant expression across his face with the tiniest hint of something that Sanzo couldn't quite read. "I get that you think you're so much _better_ than me. Fuck, you probably are. But what I don't get is why you keep doing…_this!_"

Gojyo's voice rose slightly with the last word, defiance flashing to despair for a moment before he managed to rein his emotions in again. Sanzo could only stare, his arm unwilling to obey his brain's command to pull out the pistol and shoot the redhead in the face.

"Do _what_, exactly?" He asked before he could stop himself, natural curiosity overruling the urge to get the Hell away from shitstorm he could feel brewing.

Taken aback, it took Gojyo a few seconds to think up a response. Of all the reactions he'd been expecting, _that_ wasn't one of them. Taking a deep breath, the redhead attempted to keep his emotions leashed behind a faked neutral façade.

"I mean _this_. The whole, "Sure, I'll jump out a window with you, oh wait, you can fuck off now," thing. The way you got me to hospital after…that whole issue with Hazel, only to disappear without telling _anyone_ that you were going! Sanzo, how the fuck am I supposed to know where I stand with you when you change your mind every five seconds?" The false calm cracking more with every word, Gojyo had to stop and allow himself time to breathe and collect his scattered thoughts.

That was enough of a window for Sanzo to process the information being thrown at him, and the blonde could do nothing but allow a creeping bitterness to overtake his retort. "You don't seem to get it. You _never_ get it. I don't know what you think is going on between…going on here, but you're being a fucking idiot about it. Let me spell it out: I. Don't. Want. You. Around."

Letting go of his gun and turning to leave, Sanzo stumbled into the side wall of a store when a fist hit his jaw, pain lancing through his face and the force of the blow making his head connect with unforgiving brick. The world span erratically, and before he could collect himself he was being hauled like ragdoll right up against the taller redhead.

"Don't fucking lie to me, Sanzo. Why did you come see me if you don't want to be around me? Why didn't you let me bleed out in my apartment? Why didn't you just kill me along with Banri? _You_ were the one who turned this into more than an anonymous one-night-stand, so _don't lie to me_."

Blinking hard, Sanzo tried to focus on the man yelling angrily in his face, but his eyes refused to co-operate and Gojyo's features swam nauseatingly. Going for his gun, Sanzo began to pull it out when the other man grabbed his jaw and turned his face up. The rough treatment of the tender area made the blonde's muscles spasm, and the pistol clattered to the footpath.

"Look me in the eyes, Sanzo. Look me right in the eyes and tell me that you never want to see me again."

Backed into a figurative corner, Sanzo did the only thing he could think of through the pain-induced haze that was taking over his mind. Forcing his vision into some semblance of focus, he spat directly into Gojyo's angry face.

* * *

Doku leant back in his office chair, feet propped up on his desk and fingers laced together of his eyes. Hakkai sat across from him, a picture of opposites with his back perfectly straight and legs pressed together.

The older man let out a low groan, eventually straightening up simply to slump forward and hang his head in his hands over the wood of the desk. "Why _him_, Hakkai? Why, out of all the people in this goddamn shithole of a world, did Gojyo have to end up with _Sanzo_?"

"I was just as surprised as you, Dokugakuji…both that Sanzo was getting along with someone, _and _that the 'someone' was your brother. I suppose you could either call it fate or incredible luck."

"Yeah, incredibly _bad_ luck. Seriously, what the Hell would Gojyo even see in him? The guy's a total prick!" Groaning again, Doku stood up and began pacing the floor of his home office. He wanted nothing more than to go and shoot Sanzo to put an end to this entire mess, but chances were that would take him away from Gojyo for too long.

Judging from what little his brother and Hakkai had said, it wasn't wise to leave the redhead alone for too long. Even as a kid, he'd had the most amazing ability to attract trouble; even if back then, it had mostly been because of his attention-grabbing hair.

Doku's steps faltered as he remembered walking home one day only to find Gojyo huddled in a corner, his mother standing over the boy as she screamed- yet again- about the hair colour he had inherited from his biological mother. A small bunch of red flowers, almost matching his brother's hair and eyes, had been on the floor beneath her feet with the petals violently trampled and torn.

After dragging the hysterical woman away and shoving a bottle of wine into her mouth like a pacifier, Doku had eventually managed to pry the story from his shaking, terrified little brother.

Gojyo had just wanted her to see that not everything of that colour red was filthy and disgusting, the way she regularly told him he was; he'd had the best of intentions, and just desperately wanted his stepmother's approval.

Was that the same thing he was doing now? Sanzo was a cold bastard without a heart; could it be possible that Gojyo just wanted the blonde's approval in some deep-seated way, the same as his younger version had clung to the abusive bitch they lived with?

Doku's eyes widened: Did that mean that Sanzo was physically _hurting_ Gojyo? Those injuries he'd had, which had never been properly explained; the way that Sanzo hadn't wanted to let Doku into the hospital room…

"_I'll kill him!_" The older man suddenly roared, slamming his fist into the wall beside him. He hadn't kept his mother from killing Gojyo for all those years just to let someone else finish the job; even when the other person was one of the finest assassins he'd ever met.

In fact, that alone was reason enough for Doku to want to get Gojyo away from the blonde. It just wasn't safe.

"I don't know exactly what you are currently thinking, Dokugakuji, but it would probably be beneficial if you would sit and think it through." Hakkai's quiet, level voice easily caught Doku's attention, the brunette having an amazing ability to hold anyone's focus with a few simple words.

But Doku wasn't having any of _that_ today. "This isn't the time for _thinking_, Hakkai. This is the time for killing the goddamn fucking bastard who thinks he can get away with hurting my brother!"

"…Excuse me?"

Doku whirled around, stomping over to his desk and slamming his palms against the wood so that he could stand over the sitting man. "Sanzo! Sanzo was the one who _really _hurt Gojyo, wasn't he? I'm going to kill him for it. Simple as that."

"No."

"No _what?"_ Doku spat, seething as Hakkai's composure didn't fall even the slightest bit. Here he was, trying to protect his brother, and the other man was trying to cover for the bastard who was hurting him?

"No to everything. The one who sent your brother into hospital is already dead. He died _because _he hurt Gojyo, and Sanzo refused to allow that to go unpunished. I cannot explain how or why it happened, but it seems that Sanzo is rather…_taken_ with Gojyo. After all, your brother is still alive; despite the fact that he has broken into Sanzo's apartment on at least one occasion, and refuses to leave the man in peace."

A moment of silence passed before Doku slumped back down in his chair, running a hand through his short hair.

"Hakkai, you have two minutes to tell me every goddamn thing you know about those two. _Everything_, this time."

* * *

Lip curling in surprised disgust, Gojyo swiped at his cheek with his free hand before rubbing it clean on his jeans. Looking at the blonde, he could see that the other man seemed just as shocked at the action as he was. Obviously, Sanzo wasn't in the habit of spitting at people.

It was all too much: Gojyo dissolved into laughter, his shoulders shaking heavily as he dropped his forehead onto Sanzo's shoulder. It didn't take long for tears to start streaming from his eyes, although this time they were from amusement and not painful memories.

Ignoring the laughter, Sanzo focused on unclenching the redhead's fist from his shirt without damaging the material. Gojyo eventually went slack, releasing his grip and leaning the majority of his weight against the blonde; he soon went sprawling, Sanzo stepping away as soon as his shirt was free and removing Gojyo's support.

Still laughing, the redhead hit the wall and stayed there, slumped against the brick as he took deep breaths and tried to avoid hyperventilating.

"Are you _finished?"_ Sanzo questioned, flattening out the wrinkles Gojyo had put in his shirt. There was no reply as Gojyo wiped his eyes, shoulders still shaking ever so slightly.

"Uh…yeah, I think I'm good. It was just…your face, when you realised what you'd done…holy _shit_, Sanzo, it was hilarious. I'm not even angry anymore…I think I needed that."

And he did feel better: after releasing all the tension in his body through the shouting and laughing, Gojyo felt like a weight had been lifted from his chest.

He knew that Sanzo would probably never say it aloud, but the man's actions seemed to prove that he _did_ want Gojyo to be around. Asking for verbal proof was pushing too far…especially at this point.

Finally under control, Gojyo smiled happily and stood up. "So. Now that we've got _that_ out of the way, d'you wanna go for lunch or something? I'm _starving_."

"…Just like that? You're going to forget our _entire_ conversation, just like that? You're more of an idiot than I thought."

"Well, yeah. I mean, I didn't _really_ mean it- I'm just frustrated, I guess- and neither did you…so we're good, right?" Gojyo grinned apologetically, even going as far as retrieving Sanzo's gun from the ground and holding it out grip-first in a gesture of good-will.

"I didn't _mean_ it? Of course I meant what I said! Why would I bother saying it otherwise?" Sanzo's gaze flicked down to the offered gun, which was quickly being withdrawn.

"Nuh-uh. You get it back when you admit that you _do_ want me around…or buy me lunch. 'Cause I've got no wallet and I'm hungry."

Sanzo's eye twitched. Gojyo was holding his pistol hostage: the last thing he had from his father. He was going to _kill_ the bastard whore…just as soon as he got the gun back.

"Fine," the blonde acquiesced grumpily. "You'll get your fucking meal, as long as you shut up and then leave me the Hell alone afterwards."

Gojyo smiled cheekily, sending a flash of foreboding through Sanzo's mind.

"Whatever you say, Gorgeous."

* * *

*******I'm not 100% sure if this chapter entirely makes sense, with regard to Doku's protective over-reactions and Gojyo's mood swings. Oh well, I decided to just post this as it was because who knows how long I could've agonised over rewrites? Hopefully it's not too dodgy.*******


	45. Chapter 45: We Incite

*******I…pretty much no longer remember what I've already said in this story. I try my best to keep track of everything, but I get a little confused between what I _have_ said, what I _planned_ to say, and what I put in _other_ stories. So if I contradict myself or repeat myself a lot, feel free to point it out: I'd be eternally grateful! Maybe this'll teach me to keep better notes...you never know when a simple fic is going to become a goddamned _epic._*******

* * *

Glaring intently at a spot two inches left of Gojyo's face, Sanzo very nearly managed to ignore each and every thing the redhead spoke. Honestly, he didn't have time for the trivial _shit_ that Gojyo insisted on spouting at any given moment now that he didn't have food to occupy his mouth.

Sanzo was _confused_, and it was throwing off his focus.

He couldn't figure out exactly why he'd agreed to eat with Gojyo…again. It hadn't exactly worked out well the first two times; well, maybe the second one hadn't been _all_ that bad…

But he felt physically _ill_ around Gojyo- the man was bad for his health, obviously. Probably giving him a stress ulcer or something…or maybe the man's utter _idiocy_ was going to give him an aneurism. Death would probably be a relief, at this point.

Sanzo hated being so unsettled, and he wanted nothing more than to get the fuck away and get rid of the unexplained sick feeling. Yet, at the same time…he'd so rarely had someone actually try to _force_ their way into his life…it almost felt, well, _good_ to be wanted like that.

Letting out a low, quiet growl at his thoughts, which seemed to be getting progressively more idiotic, Sanzo glanced across to see that Gojyo had finally shut up and was just sitting there watching him. The contemplative look in those weird red eyes wasn't something the blonde could really say he'd ever seen on the other man.

"What?" Sanzo snapped, holding Gojyo's gaze and daring the other to look away first.

The red stare didn't waver. "Anyone ever tell you that you're cute when you're grumpy?"

Sanzo sighed heavily, rubbing at his temple. He didn't particularly feel like making a scene in the middle of the busy café, and so he kept his voice low and dangerous. "Most realise that saying something like _that_ is a quick way to _die_."

"Well, it's true!" Breaking the stare, Gojyo slouched back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, grinning in satisfaction. Sanzo continued to stare for a few more moments, eventually diverting his eyes back to their original point beside Gojyo's head.

The silence that fell again was welcoming, but Sanzo knew that it wouldn't last long. He held back an eye-roll when Gojyo leant forward to put his elbows on the table, opening his mouth to speak.

"You think I'm joking, don't you."

"Are you _ever _serious?"

Gojyo laughed, a deep sound that hit Sanzo right in his unsettled stomach. Fighting the sudden onset of nausea, the blonde forced himself to focus on something, _anything_, other than the urge to throw up; this time, it just so happened to be what Gojyo was saying.

"Well, yeah. I mean, not _everything's_ a big joke t'me…and I meant it!" Smiling widely, Gojyo winked and leaned even further across the table. "You're a grumpy, adorable little bastard."

In a flash, the redhead reached out and tweaked Sanzo's nose, pulling away just as quickly as he had moved in. Shocked to the core that someone had actually _dared_ to disrespect him like that, Sanzo subconsciously moved for his gun; but his hand met nothing other than skin and material.

"Looking for something?"

Sanzo _snarled_ as he saw the redhead's teasing grin, his knuckles going white as he gripped the table in an attempt to stop himself from launching across it and beating the shit out of the other man.

"_That's it,_" he forced out, voice low and tight with anger. "_Get your fucking stupid ass outside, NOW."_

Those striking red eyes went wide for several seconds, Gojyo blinking nervously at him as the grin vanished.

"Why?" The redhead questioned suspiciously, subconsciously leaning back to move away from the immediate source of danger. Sanzo vaguely noted the tension flooding the taller man's body, most probably a 'fight-or-flight' reflex that he'd picked up on the streets.

"So that I can kick your ass, you fucking dipshit!" It took all Sanzo had to keep his voice low, not wanting to pick up too much attention from the café's other patrons. If something went down now and he happened to get arrested, he wouldn't have Doku to get him out.

The thought of his empl…_former_ employer had the blonde's eye twitching, fury practically resonating off him as he tried to restrain himself from flipping the table over and simply killing Gojyo. Even without his gun, he still knew that he would be able to do it.

"Sanzo…" Gojyo muttered nervously, trailing off and lifting a hand to his mouth to bite at his short thumbnail. Purple eyes flashed dangerously, seemingly trying to kill the redhead where he sat simply with a look. "_What_?"

Lowering his hand from his mouth, Gojyo swallowed and sat himself up straight. "Don't talk to me like that."

"Why shouldn't I? It's true. You're a fucking idiot."

Features hardening again, the way they had in the street earlier, Gojyo slammed his open palms down on the table and made the empty plate before him jump noisily. "Because I don't deserve to be treated like shit, dammit!"

A few other customers looked around nervously at the noise, but both men remained oblivious to the looks they were receiving. Sanzo was sill holding onto the table, his fingers cramping; he didn't feel it.

"Oh? And why exactly is that, _whore_?" Even the blonde himself was slightly startled by the amount of venom in his voice. He didn't know exactly why he was flipping out so badly; all he knew was that he couldn't stop.

A dangerous swirl of emotion was clouding his mind, and all he wanted to do was take his uncertainty, confusion and anger out on someone. Gojyo just happened to be the closest viable target for the vitriol that Sanzo was spitting.

Opening his mouth to reply, Gojyo suddenly realised their audience and stayed silent, his eyes darting from side to side as he took in the witnesses sitting all around. He clenched his fists on the tabletop and stood, bending slightly to better level himself with the still-seated blonde.

"You wanna do this again? Fine. I'll be out in that alley just up from here, the one we walked past. This isn't the place."

Thin lips parted slightly in surprise as Gojyo stormed from the shop, loose hair swaying slightly from his fast steps. The sound of whispering caught Sanzo's ears, and he glared at everyone who was clearly trying hard _not_ to look at him before throwing a few bills on the table and following the redhead.

If Gojyo could finally say what he wanted to say, maybe Sanzo could _finally_ get rid of the annoying little prat.

Well, a man could wish, couldn't he?

* * *

Gojyo paced up and down the alley, muttering furiously to himself under his breath. God, Sanzo threw him for a loop: most of the time, the redhead couldn't tell whether he wanted to kill the man or just fuck him senseless.

In any _normal_ case, he would've simply punched the bastard in the face until he showed enough forgiveness, then helped him off the floor and let bygones be bygones.

But he just couldn't bring himself to damage that beautiful face…

A second set of footsteps echoed in the dirty, graffiti-covered alley, making Gojyo pause in his stride and look up. A little flash of surprise ran through him upon seeing that Sanzo _had_ actually followed him, but it was soon swallowed by the indignant anger that Gojyo had felt bubbling up in the café.

The blonde stopped quite a distance away, and Gojyo found himself moving forward until he was only a few feet from the pissed off man. He wanted to shove him into a wall again, to assert unconditional dominance for a moment or two; but he knew Sanzo would be expecting it this time, and so he kept his hands to himself.

Silence again fell on the alley as the redhead tried to figure out what he needed to say first, which issue was making him the angriest. Careful planning went out the window, though, when Sanzo interrupted his thoughts with a snotty, "Well? You have something to say, or are we just going to have a goddamn staring contest?"

"You fucking _little_…Alright, Sanzo. I _do_ have something to say." Trying desperately to control his anger, Gojyo took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "You look at me like I'm dirt. You call me a whore like it's the worst thing someone could possible be. You treat me like I'm…some kind of _animal_. So why do you touch me like you _care?_"

"I…Like I _what?"_ Sanzo exploded, his jaw hanging slightly open. Once again, his hand went to his hip and met nothing but skin and cloth, his fingers clenching violently.

Gojyo watched the action with vaguely amused eyes, feeling the cool weight of the gun tucked into his own jeans. He'd give the weapon back once he'd said his piece; he hadn't meant to ask Sanzo _that_, but it was too late to take it back now. He had to see this through.

"Every time we go to bed, you stay. You've never hit me or tried to humiliate me when we have sex. Hell, for all the times you've threatened me at all, you've only ever shot at me once- and that barely counts, because you were drunk. For fuck's sake, you _do_ sleep with me! Shouldn't that say something as it is?" Reaching out, Gojyo slammed his fist into the grimy wall of the alley, feeling his skin tear against the rough surface.

The slight pain helped to dissipate some of his anger, but his breath was still coming hard. He stared down at the smaller man, a slight shake in the blonde's shoulders; but even as Sanzo began to speak, he refused to meet Gojyo's eyes.

"No."

"No _what_?" The redhead practically yelled, shoving his hands into his pockets so that he didn't reach out and shake Sanzo by the shoulders. He was sick of this shit; but he just couldn't leave the other man. He couldn't crawl back to his brother and leave Sanzo alone, without anyone he could lean on.

Not that Gojyo believed Sanzo would _ever_ come to rely on him.

"No to _everything!_ I don't get _turned on_ by hitting people, so why the hell would I do it to you? And I don't believe in running away, so I'm not about to slip out in the dead of night like some nervous teenager." Finally lifting his head, Sanzo glared viciously at Gojyo. "Does that clear up your little romantic illusion, fuckwit?"

Without truly realising what he was doing, Gojyo quickly lashed out and grabbed Sanzo's shirt, again pressing him into a wall before the man had time to react. This time, though, Gojyo pressed up close, using his body to pin Sanzo's torso and arms to the filthy bricks.

One hand flew up as the blonde struggled against him, holding the man's sharp chin in place so that he could stare directly into violet eyes.

"Not at all," Gojyo hissed before forcing the chin in his grasp up, violently meeting Sanzo's lips with his own.

His mind was screaming at his body that this was a terrible idea; that the chances of him dying here and now were very, _very _high. But he just couldn't stop himself.

Even without attempting to enter Sanzo's mouth with his tongue- the fear of having it bitten off was quite real- Gojyo could feel his body start to react. Shifting slightly, he pressed a lean thigh between Sanzo's legs, the man's struggles causing him to inadvertently rub his crotch against the limb.

Gojyo felt Sanzo go tense against him, and he took up the slack to continue to rub his leg against the blonde, moving his mouth to attack Sanzo's neck. Sucking hard, he had a vague feeling of foreboding, which he shook off as stupidity…

…Before a strong left hook suddenly connected with his chin, knocking him off-balance as he stumbled to the side. Gojyo swore as he watched Sanzo shake his fist once before turning and walking away, posture straight and tall.

Eyes watering slightly from shock, Gojyo pressed a hand against his jaw and tried to figure out how Sanzo had gotten free…it must have been when he'd shifted his weight to press against the blonde's crotch.

Suddenly, a horrible thought flashed through Gojyo's mind: if he let the blonde go, he might never see the man again. He'd already proved that he could disappear without a trace.

With his heart pounding and jaw aching like a bitch, Gojyo stumbled forward before catching himself properly, sprinting out into the street. He caught sight of a familiar blonde head weaving through the foot traffic ahead of him, and he quickly took off after the other man.

* * *

Fuming, Sanzo pushed impatiently through the pedestrians swarming around him, hoping to get lost in the crowd before Gojyo could recover. The _nerve_ of that man, practically trying to feel him up in public. If only he'd had his gun, he would've shot the bastard right there and…

His sure stride faltered as he remembered that he'd left his gun with Gojyo. A hand lifted to pull through his hair in frustration, and he cursed loudly.

It was then that a sudden arm grabbed him around the waist, hauling him to the side of the footpath and out of the main flow of pedestrians. Instinctively shoving his elbow back, Sanzo caught who he _assumed_ to be Gojyo in the stomach, and the grip loosened enough for him to pull free.

Whirling around, he raised his fist again to give the bastard more of what he obviously wanted…only to hesitate when he saw the distraught expression on the redhead's face.

Gojyo either didn't see the hesitation, or he chose to ignore it; either way, the man sagged forward, arms crossed defensively across his chest. He mumbled something too quiet for Sanzo to hear, head tipped towards the ground.

"What?" Sanzo asked impatiently, slowly lowering his hand as he waited for the redhead to repeat himself.

"I said I'm sorry," Gojyo whispered, only _just_ loud enough for the blonde to hear. Sanzo couldn't help it: a bitter laugh escaped him. "Oh, so first he tries to hurt me, then he tries to fuck me, and now he's _sorry_? Give me the gun and go the fuck away, Gojyo."

He actually didn't expect the redhead to comply, but within seconds the redhead had shifted slightly to disguise the exchange from passerby, holding the gun out for Sanzo to take. Anxious to get his hands back on his weapon, Sanzo snatched it up and stuffed it into his pants, quickly turning to leave.

A large hand grabbed his bicep, and he tried to shake it off; but the grip was surprisingly strong, long fingers digging painfully into his arm. "Sanzo, wait."

"No."

"_Please_."

Rolling his eyes, Sanzo quickly turned back around. "You have _five _seconds before I shoot you."

"Where are you planning on going?" The question was asked without hesitation, although Gojyo still looked just as forlorn as he had while apologising. And, as Sanzo reluctantly admitted to himself, he really didn't know the answer.

"Nowhere that I'd tell _you_ the location of."

Gojyo finally looked up at the floor, and Sanzo suddenly felt the tiniest flash of guilt at the pure agony in the man's eyes. Forcing it away, he kept his impassive expression firmly in place. "So, you don't know?"

_Fuck_, Sanzo swore inside his head. The hand on his arm fell away and he started to leave, but he could feel those red eyes boring into him…making his stomach twist uncomfortably. What the Hell _was_ this?

"I don't know, and I don't care. Probably somewhere far away from here."

"_Don't leave me."_

It was another quiet whisper, and Sanzo felt his resolve break. He knew he should just hit the redhead again, shoot him in the kneecap or push him into the street and let a bus clean him up; but he just _couldn't_.

Whatever it was that kept making him return to Gojyo, that had kept him at the hospital while the redhead had been as still as a corpse, that had made him approach the prostitute in the first place: he couldn't name it, but he couldn't ignore it, either.

He couldn't abandon the pathetic wreck of a man that seemed to be asking for his help.

"Stand up straight, you look pathetic."

"W-…what?" Gojyo questioned uncertainly, his head lifting.

"I don't like repeating myself." Waiting until the redhead finally obeyed him and stood up straight, Sanzo glared across at the man who had been making his life Hell. "You owe me, and I'm calling some of that in. You clearly have something in mind: spill it."

Surprisingly enough, it only took Gojyo a few moments to clear his mind and speak, fingers tapping nervously against his thigh.

"You can't go back to your place, can you. Jien'll find you." Sanzo nodded his assent, waiting to see where Gojyo was going with this. "I don't know if I'll still have it, but come with me to my old joint. At the very least, I should still have some hidden cash that Zakuro wouldn't have been able to dig out."

"Oh, no. No, no, no." Sanzo shook his head, hands coming to rest on his hips. "I'm not staying _there_."

Gojyo frowned, a flash of hurt going through his expression. His arms moved to mirror Sanzo's posture, though whether that was intentional the blonde didn't know. "Why? You've got nothing else, right?"

Sanzo could only assume that Gojyo was guessing, playing the odds about where he had been planning on going. It had been a good bet: he really _didn't _have anywhere else to go, at least without calling in quite a few more favours.

"Just come with me, Sanzo. It's…it's the least I can do to say sorry…and thanks, y'know?"

He didn't really know, but Sanzo nodded anyway, sighing heavily. He didn't have many choices at that moment, and he was exhausted. It had been one Hell of a day, and although he knew that Gojyo's place might easily have been reclaimed by the redhead's pimp…it was better than trying to find a decent hotel.

"Fine. But it's only until I can call a few people and get the fuck out of this shithole city."

Purple eyes widened in shock as long, tan arms suddenly wrapped themselves around his shoulders, a husky voice whispering its gratitude over and over into his ear.

…What the _fuck_ had he just done?


	46. Chapter 46: We Crash

*******We're fast approaching the one year anniversary of this little pet project of mine. I have two assignments due next week, but fuck that: I like you guys a lot more than uni, and I feel bad about my lax posting lately. So have another, in the shortest time I've taken in _far _too long.*******

* * *

"I'll start from the beginning, if that is okay with you?" Hakkai glanced down at the pale hands clasped in his lap, blinking and lifting his head to meet Doku's frustrated eyes.

"Yeah, just…_Everything_, Hakkai. I don't care if I've already heard it; just tell me everything you can."

Nodding once, the brunette paused while he silently wrestled with what to say. If he maintained the intricate web of half-truths he'd been weaving, then there was a chance that Doku would find out and punish him.

But if he revealed the entire truth, Sanzo might be in danger and that, in turn, would hurt Gojyo.

Hakkai still wasn't entirely sure why he had become so invested in the redhead's piece of mind; but he was realising more and more that he didn't wish to see another couple be torn apart by violence. To see someone else go through the same things he himself had…Hakkai didn't know if he could handle that.

Still, maybe it was the time for honesty.

"As I believe you already know, Gojyo was employed at the club, L'Amour, that you ordered Sanzo to stake out one night. From what information I can gather, that was the very beginning of their…dalliance. Several days later, it seems, Sanzo contacted your brother in order to gain more information about the inner workings of the operation, as you had requested of him."

Dokugakuji nodded, silently prompting the younger man to continue. He already knew this information, but he was anxious to discover how the relationship between his younger sibling and his erstwhile employee had gone from a simple fling to something more…serious.

"As far as I know, the next time the two met was when you requested that Sanzo and I should remove Banri. Gojyo was present at the time, and although Sanzo was rather impolite to him, he requested that I did not hurt Gojyo. That was the first time that I met your brother, and he seemed to have a rather high opinion of Sanzo, despite the man's rudeness."

Hakkai was watching Doku's face carefully, and he saw the anger that flashed through the older man's expression when he mentioned Gojyo's affiliation with Banri. He still remained silent, though, his features returning to a neutral state as Hakkai kept speaking.

Though that was likely to disappear when Hakkai recounted the next piece of information he had pieced together.

"From there, the next interaction between the two that I know of is when you sent Sanzo to follow one of your subordinates; the one who _was_ later found to be a traitor, and executed."

"…The one who was kneecapped by his whore, and put in hospital?"

Hakkai momentarily glanced off to the side again, fighting the nervous urge to bite his lip. Opening his mouth, he ignored the internal voice that begged him to spin more lies.

"Dokugakuji, although Rick did meet with a prostitute that night, I have it on good authority that the injury did not come from the…_escort_…your brother." Pure shock was evident on Doku's face and he opened his mouth to speak, but Hakkai continued before the other man could begin.

"It seems that Sanzo did not take kindly to Gojyo _associating_ with another man, even though he was fully aware of Gojyo's profession. From what Gojyo has told me, and what I know of Sanzo through our own history, the only reason Rick did not die that night was because Gojyo forcibly stopped Sanzo from completing the murder."

A long pause followed, Hakkai attempting to recall the next portion of his recount and Dokugakuji trying to reconcile the information he was receiving with the people he knew.

Sanzo had lied to him, and disobeyed orders to simply follow his target; but he'd also clearly shown a strong possessiveness towards Gojyo. And Sanzo simply didn't _do_ possession…he didn't care what other people did.

Did he?

And Gojyo…it _hurt_ to be reminded that his brother had been reduced to fucking men for money. He wanted to run upstairs and find out the names of every…_customer_…Gojyo had ever had, so that he could kill every single one of them.

With a sinking feeling, Doku realised that the information was probably going to get worse from here on, and he toyed with the idea of telling Hakkai to stop. But he needed to know…he _had_ to know exactly what Sanzo was doing with his younger brother.

No matter how badly it hurt to hear about all the hardships his actions had brought his sibling.

* * *

A tense silence had fallen over Gojyo and Sanzo along the walk to the redhead's apartment, which Sanzo was quite grateful for. He already felt like he was making a mistake, and hearing more chatter from the other man would have tipped him over the edge…again.

This time, he allowed Gojyo to take the lead through the streets, not entirely trusting his memory as to where the apartment building was. Eventually the area became more dilapidated and a deceptively shabby apartment building came into view.

Gojyo still didn't say anything, merely holding the door open and gesturing for Sanzo to enter ahead of him. For once, the blonde accepted the gesture, though not without an indignant glare at his companion.

Upon reaching the eighth floor of the building, Sanzo followed his memory to what he thought was Gojyo's door; but when the redhead continued past him to the other end of the corridor, he could no longer keep his mouth shut.

"What are you doing?"

Gojyo jolted, whipping his head around as if the sudden question had positively shocked him. Sneering slightly at the reaction, Sanzo folded his arms and raised an expectant eyebrow, still standing outside what he was _sure_ was Gojyo's doorway. The redhead blinked a few more times before beckoning Sanzo and turning to face another doorway.

Taking a few steps forward, Sanzo couldn't deny that he was curious. That was _definitely_ not the door he had used to get into Gojyo's apartment the other times he had been there; so what the Hell was the man doing?

As Sanzo watched, Gojyo lifted onto his toes and placed a hand on top of the doorframe he was standing before, fingers groping around for something that he wasn't _quite_ tall enough to see. The blonde stared, waiting for an explanation as to the younger man's odd behaviour.

"Got it! Shit, I though someone moved it for a second there." Lowering his arm and returning to a normal stance, Gojyo flashed the first smile Sanzo had seen since he had pried the personal-space-invading idiot off him in the street.

"Found _what?" _Sanzo snapped, thoroughly unimpressed. Gojyo just turned and continued to smile, holding something out towards the blonde with a metallic jingle.

"My spare key, genius. The girl who lives here," he gestured to the door beside him, "let me stick it up there for safekeeping. No point putting it on top of my _own_ door, that's too obvious. And as far as I know, my main key is still somewhere in Hazel's house, along with the rest of my shit."

Sanzo blinked, following the redhead's line of logic. _That's…surprisingly intelligent. _

At the mention of the late loanshark, though, he couldn't help the satisfied little smirk that appeared on his lips. He was _still_ proud of himself over that one, even if public knowledge of his achievement was…limited.

Gojyo walked back over to him, footsteps loud in the bare hallway. Sanzo took a step back when the redhead came right up to him, glaring as the man laughed and turned to face the door that Sanzo had correctly identified as his.

"C'mon, let's see what Zak did with the place while I've been away." Unlocking the door, Gojyo pushed it open and walked inside, immediately making Sanzo glad that the redhead hadn't tried- yet _again_- to treat him as a woman by holding it open.

Instead, Gojyo seemed to be more interested in looking around the front room, trying to discern if someone was living there or if anything had changed. As far as Sanzo could tell, nothing looked _too_ different; but the place certainly didn't have the look of an apartment that hadn't been opened in a number of weeks.

Gojyo seemed to come to the same conclusion, stopping after taking only a few steps inside.

"Hello?" He called, pausing to wait for a response. When none came, the redhead cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled again, "Anyone here?"

This time, Sanzo heard the distinctive sound of running footsteps, and a small figure slid out from what he thought was the living room. He could only stare as a dark-haired blur launched itself at Gojyo, chattering excitedly at the top of its lungs.

"_Oh my God!_ Is it really you? What th' Hell happened, Gojyo? Where've you been? Everyone was so worried, I was so worried…we thought you _died!"_

Sanzo almost laughed at the utter terror on Gojyo's face as he grabbed the short, hyperactive figure by the shoulders, grounding him in order to better see who had nearly tackled him.

The confusion melted into a bright grin as the redhead bent down slightly, wrapping an arm around the still-babbling kid and ruffling his hair. "How're you going, Goku? Long time, no see!"

The new arrival laughed gleefully, taking a step back. Looking down, Sanzo felt a flash of realisation: this was the same kid he'd asked about Gojyo back when the bastard had disappeared. The one who'd looked genuinely worried when he'd heard that the redhead was missing.

"I can't believe you're here!" The kid's smile was nearly blinding, and although he was dressed casually in track pants and a t-shirt, Sanzo couldn't help but remember that this _kid_ was a prostitute and wonder if the grin was entirely real.

Happiness didn't generally go hand-in-hand with selling yourself, as Sanzo had witnessed.

"I could say the same about you, kid. I go away for two friggin' seconds and you move in on my territory, hey?" Gojyo's tone was light and teasing, but Sanzo could sense something else below it. He tried not to think to heavily on it, though, telling himself that he couldn't care less what was going through the redhead's mind.

The kid- apparently named Goku- frowned for a moment, but it didn't take long for him to smile and begin bouncing on the balls of his feet again. "I know, but…well, y'know how Zakuro gets. I've only been here for a couple'a days, 'cause he just sorta came up t'me one day and told me I was number one so I had'ta move. I asked him about _you_, but he went totally white and wouldn't tell me."

Gojyo frowned, obviously a little confused. Before he could ask anything else, though, Goku turned and noticed Sanzo, clearly for the first time since their arrival.

"Hey! I know you…you're th' one who was lookin' for Gojyo, right? Ya found him! That's awesome!"

The blonde could only manage an undignified '_umph' _sound as the surprisingly strong boy latched onto his waist, the tight grip making him feel like his organs were being squashed together. Looking down, he saw light, golden-brown eyes staring at him with obvious gratitude, the expression overflowing with innocence.

"Thanks for finding him. He can be an annoyin' bastard at the best a' times, but I missed him, y'know? I didn't want Gojyo t' die or anythin'."

Sanzo snorted, unimpressed, as he attempted to extract himself from the overexcited boy's grip. Luckily, before he got to the point of violence, he was suddenly released as Goku bounced back to face Gojyo. The boy went to say something else, but a hand clamped over his mouth.

"Goku, calm down for a sec, okay? Did Zakuro really say you were number one?" Gojyo only released the younger male when he'd finished his question, a small smile playing on his lips as he watched Goku bounce around excitedly. The kid's grin still hadn't dropped, his voice coming out fast and full of happiness.

"Yeah! I figured you'd quit or somethin', but I got kinda worried when Zak wouldn't tell me what'd happened to ya. Oh, but I guess now you're back, you're gonna want this place back too, right?"

Sanzo's focus immediately snapped to Gojyo, who suddenly looked a little awkward as one hand lifted to run through his long hair. Soon enough, though, his usual confidence was back in his posture- even if his eyes still looked uncertain and worried.

"Uh…yeah, right! Well, I just took some time off…but we'll see. I think you're right to stay, though." Smiling a little indulgently, Gojyo again bent slightly to ruffle Goku's hair, snickering when the boy batted his hand away and grumbled.

Obviously, the pair had a history that went beyond simple acquaintanceship; Sanzo had to wonder if Gojyo almost saw the brunette as a younger brother. The way the two interacted seemed to indicate something along those lines.

"Oh! I have somethin' for you, Gojyo," the kid suddenly exclaimed, dashing away into a room that Sanzo hadn't been in. The blonde could only watch as Goku retreated, shaking his head slightly at the whirlwind of energy that seemed to surround the kid.

A quiet question broke him out of his reverie, Gojyo's voice inquisitive. "So, you two've met each other?"

Turning to face the redhead, Sanzo met Gojyo's look with a challenging stare. "We spoke once. He wasn't helpful in the least."

"Oh." Gojyo sounded _relieved_, and Sanzo felt his eyebrows draw together in confusion. He didn't know what the redhead meant by that, and he wasn't exactly sure if he wanted to find out. Before he could dwell too much on it, though, bounding footsteps reappeared in the front room once again.

"Here!" Goku ran right up to Gojyo, holding out something small and rectangular. With a confused 'thank you', the redhead took the object and held it up to the light, inspecting it closely.

After a few moments of silence, Gojyo looked down again. "Uh…why'd you give me a SIM card?"

"Oh, well when I got here, I found a broken cell on the floor. I figured it was yours, but it was totally trashed, so I threw it out. The SIM was fine, but, so I kept it. Just in case, and all."

Gojyo muttered something under his breath, and Sanzo thought he heard the word 'Hazel'; well, if the redhead wanted to think that Grosse had broken the phone when he'd taken Gojyo, then Sanzo wasn't about to enlighten him as to exactly how it had been destroyed.

He felt a slight anger at the kind of numbers that little chip probably held, though…

"Thanks," Gojyo smiled, laughing softly when Goku gave him a beaming grin. He went to put the card in his pocket, but Sanzo could have sworn that he saw tan fingers snap the thin plastic in half before it disappeared into Gojyo's jeans.

_That_ was an interesting thing for Gojyo to have done. Was it merely a safety measure, or was there a deeper meaning behind it?

Sanzo decided he didn't care.

"So, what're you doing here, anyway? Oh…do you need a place t' stay now you're back?" Goku finally stood still, eyes wide and curious. Sanzo could only describe Gojyo's smile as indulgent when the redhead looked down at the boy, both hands going into his pockets.

…It was a good look for the man.

"Well, y'know…yeah. You can keep the master bedroom, and if it's alright with you, kid, Blondie here can take the spare. Did you keep my couch? 'Cause I'm good to sleep there, that thing is _really_ comfortable."

"It's your place, idiot. But I've been stayin' in the spare…I didn't wanna go through your stuff in case you came back."

"Oh…thanks, Goku. But you really didn't have to worry about that. You can move into the better room if you want." Gojyo was still smiling softly, looking at the smaller male with soft eyes. Sanzo didn't think he'd ever seen the redhead wear such an expression; it was certainly different to the devil-may-care asshole Gojyo _usually_ was.

But, then again, he could see how the innocent, childish brunette might have that sort of effect on people.

Not that he himself was affected, of course…

"Nah, it's good." Goku suddenly gasped, pulling a small cell phone out of his pocket and squinting at the screen. His energetic bouncing faltered for a moment, only to be taken up again a moment later. "Crap, I've gotta see a guy pretty soon, and then I'm going straight to th' club. But you guys can stay here as long as ya need to, okay? Everythin' should pretty much be where ya left it, Gojyo, and I'll see youse tomorrow."

"Thanks, Goku. Be safe, alright?" Gojyo reached out to lightly punch the brunette on the arm, and Goku retaliated by jabbing the taller man in the side before ducking away into another room. Sanzo added the exchange to his earlier observations, deciding once again that it seemed as if the redhead saw Goku as a younger brother.

Not that many older brothers would be so calm about their younger sibling running off to whore themselves out to God knows who…

As he turned to face Gojyo, though, Sanzo thought he caught the slightest hint of worry in the man's face before it was quickly covered by a teasing smile.

"Well, looks like I got you a place to crash. And I even got you _my_ bed; that thing wasn't cheap…but I think you know how comfy it is," Gojyo drawled with an exaggerated wink.

If the redhead thought that Sanzo was going to act like a good little houseguest and kindly offer to take the couch, he was sorely mistaken. If the blonde was stuck staying with a pair of whores, then there was no chance of him taking the couch.

…Even if he didn't particularly want to think about the things Gojyo might have done in that bed…or the _people_…

Grumbling softly to himself, Sanzo almost missed it as Gojyo walked past him, only to falter and turn back around with a giant grin.

"After the day I've had, I could do with a fuckin' stiff drink. What d'ya think, gorgeous?"

Frowning at the nickname, Sanzo weighed his options. He could either deal with his frustration and confusion naturally…or he could risk getting a little smashed with Gojyo, and watch all his problems fade away into nothing…if only for one night.

He'd already made a lot of bad decisions. What was one more?

"Just bring me the goddamn bottle."


	47. Chapter 47: We Indulge

*******Is it just me, or has there been a severe lack of new 353 lately? With that in mind, sorry about the wait. We're getting into the point of semester (weeks six to eight) where all my assignments are coming due, and I got kinda sick, and a whole bunch of other petty bullshit went over (or I was utterly munted)…It all comes down to speed or quality. Both together are fucking _hard_ to achieve at the moment, and I kinda feel like I'm losing my touch, so quality control has been upped.

This chapter will seem OOC, but they're very, _very_ drunk. Take heed, and we'll be back to our regularly scheduled programming soon.*******

* * *

Gojyo sat back against the balcony's outer railing, exhaling smoke into the night air and giggling drunkenly at nothing in particular. The pack of cigarettes next to him- earlier unearthed from who knew where- was half-empty; after going without for so long, he'd out-smoked Sanzo almost two-to-one over the course of the night.

The blonde was pressed against the outside wall of the apartment with a cheap bottle of wine clasped loosely in his hand. Between them, the two had positively torn through a lot of the alcohol that Gojyo had stashed around the apartment; yet somehow, the redhead kept disappearing and coming back with more.

Gasping excitedly, Gojyo practically jumped to his feet, carelessly tossing his half-smoked cigarette from the balcony. He swayed a little on the spot and Sanzo had to wonder if he was just going to fall down again.

"Tequila!" The redhead suddenly shrieked, stumbling inside after narrowly missing the glass door to the balcony. A brief thought flashed through Sanzo's mind that he should really stop drinking, but it was quickly pushed aside as he lifted the bottle to his lips and took another swig.

He could barely taste the cheap and nasty booze, and he didn't notice when half the liquid spilt down his shirt; he just emptied the bottle into his mouth and started patting himself down to find his Marlboros.

The search was interrupted when something slammed loudly into the glass of the balcony door. Jerking his head around, Sanzo snorted when he saw Gojyo glaring at the clear glass, rubbing a hand against his forehead. The tall man muttered something that Sanzo didn't catch, before stumbling to the side and almost tripping through the opening to the balcony.

"Stupid fucking bastard 'f a door…swear it moved…" Still rubbing his face, Gojyo slumped against the apartment wall and slid to the ground, landing almost shoulder-to-shoulder with the other man. Sanzo scowled at the intrusion of his personal space, muttering angrily to himself and turning to shove the redhead away.

The violent motion made Gojyo fall onto his side, giggling madly. There was a dull thud and a rolling sound as the redhead let go of the bottle he was holding, followed by the man scrambling clumsily after it.

Sanzo snorted under his breath at the display, trying to take another drink from the wine bottle and frowning when he found it to be empty. With typically bizarre drunken logic, he decided to try drinking from the bottle once more: just to make sure it really was finished.

"Put tha' shit down, Sanzoooo," Gojyo slurred from where he was now sprawled out on his back, reclaimed bottle of tequila held proudly in the air above him. "I got somethin' better!"

Grunting dismissively- though not as convincingly as he would have when sober- Sanzo tossed away the bottle he was holding. It hit the metal railing that surrounded the balcony, smashing and falling to the ground in pieces. The noise caught Gojyo's attention and he sat up, only to see the pieces and fall down again, shaking with laughter.

Sanzo frowned at the hysterical redhead, eventually pushing himself up onto his knees so that he could lean over and grab the tequila. The redhead relinquished the bottle without too much of a fight; he was too busy laughing over nothing- again- to protect his booze.

The pair hadn't found any need for glasses over the evening, so Sanzo simply twisted the cap off and poured an indeterminate amount straight down his throat. Even this far gone, the strong alcohol still burned slightly as it went through him, heating his entire body and face.

"_Fuuuck_," he breathed, feeling around for the bottle cap as he slumped back against the wall. The blonde usually tried to avoid tequila- it hit him like a ton of bricks, and passing out on the floor wasn't one of his favourite pastimes. At this point, though, rational decision-making was beyond him.

Which probably explained why he took another mouthful before closing up the bottle and handing it off to Gojyo, who had finally calmed himself and was once again sitting beside the older man.

"Thank youuuu, darling," Gojyo mumbled with a drunken snicker, accepting the bottle and swigging from it. Sighing contentedly, the redhead leant over to rest his head on Sanzo's shoulder, looking up into violet eyes with a crooked grin.

Sanzo frowned a little, but when he spoke, his tone wasn't particularly venomous and he made no move to push Gojyo away. "Don't call me that."

The redhead just mumbled something incomprehensible and settled more against Sanzo's side.

* * *

Half a bottle of tequila later and Gojyo was beginning to feel his second wind. He was still drunk out of his mind, but his sleepiness was disappearing into a sense of mild hyperactivity. Sanzo, though, was looking a little worse for wear.

"Bloooondie," Gojyo teased cheerfully, finally lifting his head from the other man's shoulder and poking a finger into a pale cheek. Sanzo's nose crinkled from the action and he growled deeply, but his attempt at batting Gojyo's hand away was pitifully weak.

"Go 'way, asshole," the blonde muttered. Gojyo's smile only grew, and he shifted until he could lay down with his head in Sanzo's lap.

It was fortunate for Gojyo that Sanzo's world was spinning too much for him to fight back against the excessive contact; otherwise, it could have been likely that the redhead would have found himself falling from the balcony.

As it was, though, Sanzo just glared down at the man in his lap with unfocused eyes, trying to dislodge him with force of will alone. "You're so fuckin' an…annoyin'…"

"I know," Gojyo replied happily, lifting his hand again and pulling at a few strands of blonde hair. He managed to pull his arm away just before Sanzo could grab it, laughing gleefully at the half-hearted glare the other man was directing towards him.

"I hate you."

The drunken conviction in Sanzo's tone put a sudden pout on the redhead's face and he whined pitifully, "But _why_?"

"Because…" Sanzo trailed off, frowning in confusion as he tried to remember what he was meaning to say.

"…Because you're an idiot and you're _ugly_," he finally finished triumphantly, not realising that he sounded as if he were five years old. Gojyo abruptly sat up at the answer, still pouting as he grabbed the tequila bottle again. He took a deep swig before trying to stand up, having to hold onto the wall to keep on his feet.

"'M not _ugly_, you…you little bastard," he slurred, hunching over and letting the bottle fall onto the ground. The redhead straightened up and took a deep breath to steady himself, trying to ignore the fact that he felt as if he were about to fall off the planet.

Sanzo had hurt his pride, and he was going to _prove_ that he was damn good looking. It made sense somewhere in his drunken mind.

Grabbing the hem of his t-shirt, Gojyo tried his best to struggle out of it. It took him a good minute to finally fight his way free, and he threw the garment at Sanzo, who barely reacted to the shirt hitting him on the chest.

Gojyo grumbled under his breath when he realised that the blonde wasn't even looking in his direction, violet eyes directed off into the distance. Clearing his throat loudly, he kicked at the blonde's thigh and stumbled heavily against the wall as his balance left him again. "_Loooook_, Sanzo."

A blonde head turned and a vacant stare slowly came to rest on the shirtless man. Gojyo stood up as straight as he possibly could, satisfied that he now had Sanzo's attention. He held his arms out to the sides, presenting himself.

"_Does this look ugly to you?"_

Sanzo made no move to answer, and Gojyo glared unsteadily at him. "Well?"

"Tch," Sanzo grunted noncommittally. Thoroughly unamused, Gojyo promptly stepped across the blonde's body and sank to his knees, straddling Sanzo's lap. Gojyo leant in as the other man jerked backwards, eyes narrowing as he stared at the blonde.

"You should really answer people when…when they ask you somethin'," Gojyo mumbled as he continued to lean forward in a way he thought was quite intimidating, Sanzo trying to keep his distance but hitting his head on the wall behind him and wincing.

Still moving in, Gojyo only came to rest when his forehead was pressed right against Sanzo's, the blonde unable to move away due to the wall and a general alcohol-induced loss of coordination. His hands moved to Gojyo's waist in an attempt to dislodge the man in his lap, but the other man was suddenly perfectly steady.

"You…You're a fuckin' _rude_," Gojyo punctuated his point by jabbing his finger into Sanzo's chest, "_stuck-up," _another jab, "_unfriendly,"_ a third jab, "piece a' _shit_, y'know what I'm sayin'?"

Growling in anger, Sanzo violently bucked his hips to the side in an attempt to throw Gojyo off. The redhead yelped as he was finally dislodged, instinctively wrapping his arms around Sanzo's neck as the world started to spin even more. Not expecting the shirtless man to grab him, Sanzo was caught off-guard and dragged along as Gojyo fell to the side.

His shoulder connecting with the concrete balcony in a way that would've been painful if he weren't so drunk, the blonde shut his eyes and tried to stay still, not wanting to vomit from the way everything around him seemed to be shaking madly.

It took him several moments to open his eyes and realise that the redhead was still clinging to him, the pair on their sides and facing each other with their legs tangled together. Sanzo started to extract himself, only to be trapped when Gojyo slung his leg over the top of the blonde's, restricting movement to a bare minimum.

Gojyo's arms still around Sanzo's neck made it easy for him to draw the blonde's face towards his own. His lips moved against the rim of the blonde's ear as he slurred, "But you're th-…the mos' beautiful thing I've ev-...e-...ever seen, so I wan' you to stay…"

His heart pounding for reasons he couldn't explain, Sanzo didn't think his actions through; he _couldn't_ think, not with the amount of liquor flowing through his body. A gasp escaped the redhead as he was suddenly flipped onto his back and pressed into the ground, lips moving down hungrily onto his own.

Sanzo didn't know what he was doing. The fact that they were outside in the middle of the night, a cool breeze whipping past; that the man beneath him was at the root of every problem he'd had recently; that there was a death sentence hanging over his head: none of it broke through the drunken, lust-spiked haze that had overtaken his mind.

All he wanted to do was touch every possible part of Gojyo's body and make that sensual voice scream in pleasure.

When Gojyo's lips spread open for him, Sanzo immediately took the invitation and dove his tongue into the warm mouth, flicking at Gojyo's tongue and drawing it into action.

It was drunkenly awkward, messy and oh-so-_hot_; one of Sanzo's hands tangled in long, red hair as the other pressed into Gojyo's bare waist, the blonde beginning to grind helplessly down onto the hardness he could feel in the shirtless man's jeans.

A miniscule portion of his brain wondered how both he and Gojyo had managed to get so hard so quickly, given their ridiculously intoxicated states; but reason and logic were quickly hidden beneath the force of damn near animalistic _need_.

Finally pulling away from the redhead's lips, Sanzo moved to nip at Gojyo's neck, cock hardening even more at the sounds the other man made as he threw his head to the side and bared even more of his throat. The blonde eagerly took the unspoken invitation, his lips, teeth and tongue practically worshipping the expanse of tan skin.

Gojyo whined breathlessly, able to do little more than arch and writhe as Sanzo attacked his neck and ground rhythmically down on his groin. His hands slipped under the blonde's shirt and pushed it up, short nails dragging down Sanzo's back when the man bit down particularly hard and then laved his tongue across the tender spot.

"F…_fuck_," Gojyo whimpered, eyes wild and cheeks flushing from more than just the booze. "Sanzo…_touch me_."

The plea gave Sanzo a burst of possessive power, and he instinctively started moving his hips faster against Gojyo's as he lifted his head and bit gently at the redhead's bottom lip.

"Scream for me," he muttered against Gojyo's mouth, shifting so that his hand could slip between their bodies and rub at the straining bulge in the taller man's jeans. Gojyo bucked his hips up at the much-welcomed contact, a strangled moan falling loudly from his swollen lips as his mouth hung open.

"_Good_," the blonde practically purred as his head dropped to Gojyo's shoulder. His hand continuing to palm the front of the redhead's pants, Sanzo moved until one of Gojyo's thighs was between his own; the man seemed to take the hint, lifting his leg a little so that Sanzo could ride the toned limb as his fingers moved to the redhead's fly.

Fingers a little unsteady from the alcohol, it took Sanzo longer than expected to release the button and zipper on Gojyo's jeans; still rubbing his own straining cock against a denim-covered thigh, the blonde lifted his head and caught unfocused red eyes, holding the stare as he lifted his hand to his mouth and ran his tongue along the length of his palm.

Hand sufficiently slicked, Sanzo reached into the now-open pants and exposed Gojyo's impressive, dripping dick; a gentle squeeze to the shaft caused a little more clear fluid to bead up at the head, Sanzo using it to further ease the path of his hand.

Gojyo threw his head back and arched his spine at the first real touch of Sanzo's hand, moaning drunkenly as one of his hands gripped the blonde's waist and encouraged him to move faster. Sanzo obliged easily, riding Gojyo's thigh harder as he started to stroke the man's erection, biting his lip to keep any embarrassing sounds inside.

Gojyo had no such problem, his mouth hanging open to release any and all noises that were gradually getting louder as Sanzo stroked him faster. His deep moans were going straight to Sanzo's groin, both men panting as they felt their pleasure build. Alcohol sapping at their self-control, it didn't take too long before Gojyo was ready to blow, sweat beading on his brow. Sanzo didn't think he was too far behind, the stimulation from Gojyo's thigh more than enough to get him off in his current state.

"Just a…_ugh_…bit harder…" The redhead grunted, hips rolling as he was jacked off by a strong hand. Each movement made his legs flex, adding to Sanzo's stimulation, and the blonde leant forward with his free hand onto the ground for support as he felt his peak approaching. Gojyo got there first, though, entire body tensing and arching as he let out a loud scream of Sanzo's name.

Warm liquid spilt over his hand as Sanzo rode Gojyo as fast as he possibly could, sparing no thought to the fact that he was going to make his pants filthy.

As the redhead slumped bonelessly to the hard ground, eyelids drooping, Sanzo absentmindedly lifted his dirtied hand to his mouth, tongue flicking out to catch a drop of come that was slowly moving down his palm. The majority of his focus was centred on the twisting anticipation in his groin, the climax that he couldn't have forced off if he'd wanted to.

Grinding down once more on Gojyo's leg, Sanzo shuddered violently and his supporting arm gave out as he came with a shock of pleasure, barely feeling the mess spreading across the front of his pants.

Slumping down on top of the other man's bare chest, the blonde yawned widely as the impact of an incredibly long day and too much booze finally hit him. He could quickly feel consciousness leaving him, unable to care about the fact that he was outside on a concrete floor, in soiled clothes and practically wrapped around another man.

Gojyo, on the other hand, was vaguely aware of the cold ground pressing into his back, and the fact that his pants were still open to the cool air. But as he let his arms come to rest around a now-sleeping Sanzo's waist, he couldn't name anywhere else he would rather have been.

Pressing his lips into soft, blonde hair, Gojyo let exhaustion claim him too.


	48. Chapter 48: We Shout

*******_Wasn't planning for this to work out so nicely, but have I got something for __**you**__ this anniversary chapter!_

Well. I've been building this story for a full year now: forty-eight chapters and one hundred and fifty thousand words. I think it's safe to say that we're beginning the descent to the end of this story, and I even have a few ideas for the conclusion. Thanks for sticking with my erratic schedule and long-winded plot for so long!*******

* * *

"So what you're telling me is…"

"Yes. Sanzo was the one who murdered Hazel Grosse."

Pulse pounding loudly through his head, Dokugakuji repeatedly clenched and unclenched his fingers, trying to focus so that he could think properly. Realising he wasn't getting anywhere, the man slammed open a desk drawer and reached inside. He fumbled for a few seconds before bringing out a cigarette and a lighter, ignoring Hakkai's disapproving look as he lit the white stick and exhaled a mouthful of smoke.

He took several more drags, each one calming his swirling thoughts a little more; eventually, he decided that his mind was about as clear as he could make it.

It was time to face the music.

"First off, are you entirely sure on that? The bastard might be on my bad side, but I don't do false charges. And second, what about that gorilla forever trailing Hazel…Gat? More than once, I've been told that he was most likely the one responsible for offing that money-grubbing asshole."

Hakkai paused for slightly longer than necessary before answering, and Doku felt a flicker of mistrust; but the brunette's tone and body language seemed no different than usual, and the older man dismissed the feeling as pure paranoia. It wouldn't pay to wrongly call out the man who was the best fit as Sanzo's replacement.

"I know this because Sanzo informed me of his intentions, but not his plans. I didn't realise that he was _actually_ going to commit the murder; but I suppose I should have known that he is not one to be underestimated." Hakkai's eyes didn't stray from where they looked directly into Dokugakuji's, and there was no trace of a lie in the man's expression.

But Doku simply couldn't shake the feeling that Hakkai was holding back on him. Gaze narrowing slightly, he prompted the brunette to continue. "And Gat? You can't seriously expect me to believe that Sanzo alone managed to take them _both_ out. They used to work for me, remember; I know how goddamn unstoppable the two of 'em can be together."

"No one has seen or heard from Gat since Hazel's…_disappearance_. He might be alive somewhere, or Sanzo may have done what many thought to be impossible. They say that rage can do wonderful things for a man's abilities, and Sanzo was certainly quite infuriated when he realised that it was Hazel who injured Gojyo."

Sighing heavily, Doku took a final drag of his cigarette and, after seeing no viable ashtray, simply ground the orange butt into the desk. He _thought_ that he heard a quiet sound of disapproval from Hakkai, but it wasn't as if he cared for the brunette's opinion about his furniture. He had more important issues to work through.

"But Sanzo gets pissed whenever Grosse comes within a mile of him. Why wou-"

"This was different," Hakkai interrupted. Dokugakuji scowled slightly at the man's uncharacteristically rude behaviour, but motioned for him to continue nonetheless.

"Sanzo has always treated Hazel like an insect of some description, an annoyance that can generally be ignored. When he told me that he was going after Hazel, though, it was as if the man was to be considered an immediate threat. That's why I disregarded Sanzo's words: I assumed that he was simply overreacting, and would soon calm down to his usual state."

"And you're absolutely _certain_ about all this?" Doku leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk and lacing his fingers together. If what Hakkai was saying was true, then…

Internally, parts of the older man's mind were warring it out. His finely-tuned instincts as a crime boss were telling him that allowing Sanzo to live was too dangerous: the blonde was prone to insubordination, and if he had truly taken both Hazel _and_ Gat out, then chances were he could also bring Doku himself down.

But his rustier instincts as an older brother were screaming that Sanzo was a perfect protector for Gojyo, a long-time trouble magnet. As much as Dokugakuji sometimes felt like it, he couldn't drop everything he'd worked so hard for and focus all his attention on the redhead; besides, judging by the man's earlier reaction to being asked to leave the room, Gojyo wouldn't take kindly to any of Doku's efforts.

Keeping the redhead close was dangerous; but leaving Sanzo alive might just be more so.

Shoving his chair back, Doku suddenly stood and motioned for Hakkai to do the same. The brunette was somewhat more graceful in his movements, rising naturally rather than violently.

"That bastard should have fucked off by now. I…need to talk to Gojyo about this, and I want you to help keep him calm. You're much better at that kinda shit than me."

The older man didn't wait for an answer, walking out of the office and towards the bedroom that had been claimed as Gojyo's. He still wasn't sure what to make of this entire situation, but he needed to definitively find out what Gojyo thought and knew about Sanzo. The man seemed fully coherent now, which was exactly what Doku had been waiting for.

Approaching the closed door of the bedroom, Dokugakuji made sure to knock- he would rather not come across any more…unwelcome surprises. When no one answered, he knocked again and paused for a second before opening the door.

"Gojyo? I need to…" Trailing off, the older man stared around the room with wide eyes.

There was no sign of the redheaded male.

Practically sprinting down the hall, Doku barrelled into the bathroom. He could've screamed in frustration when it was also empty.

'_Alright. Gojyo's always been a shifty little bugger, so he's probably just hiding out here somewhere. Relax.'_ Repeating that final thought a few times, Doku made his way back to the bedroom where Hakkai was still standing. Upon entering the room, he watched as the brunette raised an arm…and pointed silently towards the open window.

The pieces fell together, and Doku felt something inside him snap. Whirling around to face Hakkai, he allowed his volatile temper to take hold.

"_FIND THEM!" _The older man shouted, pulling his cell phone from his pocket.

"…Excuse me?" Hakkai replied, making Doku pause and look up, his eyes wild.

"Find. Gojyo. And. Sanzo. I'm not letting that _fucker_ take my brother!" Looking back at his cell, Doku jabbed violently at a speed dial number. His gaze flicked once more to the unmoving Hakkai, and he barked out a loud, "Well? What are you waiting for?"

Rage flaming through his body, Doku watched as the brunette hurried away and tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for the call to connect.

* * *

Sanzo awoke with a quiet groan: his back felt like it was completely seized up, and his neck was hardly better. Why was he sleeping on…well, he wasn't entirely sure _what_ he was sleeping on.

Cracking an eye open to find out, Sanzo suddenly shifted into a crouch and threw himself back into a cold, steel railing as bright red hair and a bare chest came into view. The movement made the world spin, but it wasn't accompanied by the usual agony of a bad hangover; he must have still been somewhat drunk from the previous night.

Which meant that it was entirely possible that the half-dressed man sleeping on the balcony in front of him- _with his flaccid cock still out, _no less- was entirely a figment of Sanzo's drunken mind.

Right?

Balling his fist in annoyance, Sanzo paused when his fingers were a lot stiffer than they should have been. Looking down, he cursed loudly: the dried substance on his palm wasn't his own, if his blurred memories were to be believed.

The uncomfortable stiffness in the fabric of his underwear, though, was probably entirely his own fault. He could vaguely recall riding Gojyo's thigh like a cheap _whore_ while he jacked the redhead off…

Sanzo shivered a little, though whether it was from disgust or the fact that it was cold out on the balcony, he didn't know. Standing up, he looked around at the bottles surrounding the still-sleeping redhead before spotting his pack of cigarettes. Bending down to pick up the small package proved a little harsh on his head, but he forced the world to stop spinning as he shoved a Marlboro between his lips and lit it.

The smoke felt like heaven going down his throat, and Sanzo felt the haze of sleep lift away from his mind. Sadly, though, the clearer thinking only made him feel the mess in his pants even more. Grumbling in annoyance, the blonde tried to ignore the unpleasant sensation and focus on his cigarette.

He was still mumbling angrily to himself when the glass door of the balcony slammed open, Goku running out and shouting Gojyo's name. Sanzo flinched slightly at the sudden intrusion, watching as the kid began shaking Gojyo awake without too much luck.

Finally, the redhead started to rouse.

"Wh…what d'ya want?" His tone was a tired drawl, and he followed his words with a long yawn. Goku, on the other hand, looked even more worked up than the previous day, his hand twisting at the bottom of his over-sized shirt as he bounced on the balls of his feet.

"Gojyo, these two guys just came lookin' for ya. Big dudes, suits, looked kinda dangerous…"

The redhead's tired face suddenly became awake and alert, the man standing quickly. He opened his mouth to say something, only to be cut off by Sanzo.

"_Pants_," the blonde growled, keeping his eyes locked firmly on Gojyo's face as the redhead looked down. There was no shame in Gojyo's expression as he tucked himself back into his jeans. After making himself half-decent, Gojyo looked back at the hyperactive boy.

"Are they still here, or did you just do the usual?" Gojyo frowned a little, probably trying to figure out what the men would have been after. Sanzo had a few theories of his own…

"The usual. I said that I hadn't seen ya in a month, and that I couldn't contact ya. Then they wanted ta know if I knew a 'Sanzo', which I take it is ya boyfriend here?" Goku looked a little worried when the full force of Sanzo's death glare was upon him, but he smiled again when Gojyo snorted with laughter.

"Watch it, kid, or he'll kick your ass. By the way, Blondie, isn't that your gun over there?" Looking over to where Gojyo was pointing, Sanzo's eyes widened. How had his pistol ended up right near the edge of the balcony? He quickly went to pick it up, keeping one ear on the conversation behind him.

"Ya did good, Goku. Guess this means we'll be outta here A.S.A.P."

"Awww," the younger man whined. "But I guess you gotta go, hey."

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that. But I'd rather not get dragged off by a bunch of gang assholes." Gojyo's voice was light, but Sanzo could hear an underlying bitterness. Still, he assumed from the Gojyo's words that the redhead had come to the same conclusion he had himself: That the men had belonged to Dokugakuji.

It wouldn't have taken too long for Doku to realise that his precious brother had disappeared; Sanzo knew that staying hidden for even _this_ long was fairly surprising.

Tucking his gun into his pants, Sanzo turned and scowled at the chatting pair. Considering whether or not it would be embarrassing to ask for a clean pair of pants, he decided to simply walk back into the apartment, following his memory to Gojyo's bedroom.

The cluttered room was filled with piles of boxes, clothes and random objects spilling everywhere onto the floor. Picking his way through the mess, Sanzo walked over to what he assumed was the closet. When he opened the door, though, what he saw was more like a clothes store.

_Why_ did one man need so many outfits? Sanzo could only assume that most of it was Gojyo's, judging by what Goku had said about keeping all the redhead's possessions. Either way, it was still a ridiculous amount even shared between two people.

The blonde shook his head and looked around the walk-in wardrobe, seeing what looked like a pile of jeans sitting at the back. Moving closer, he saw that he was in luck; but he'd gone through more than half the pile before accepting that every single tag was going to proclaim the pants as being 'super skinny leg'. Even though Gojyo was a size or two bigger than himself, the redhead having more height _and _more muscle, Sanzo wasn't sure that he wanted to even try to squeeze into those pants.

Then he became aware the awkwardly stiff material around his crotch again. Sighing, Sanzo grabbed a pair made with black denim, trying not to think about where Gojyo might have gone in those pants. He did _not_ need to know about that.

He noticed a light switch, flicking it to illuminate the room so that he could close the door and dress in relative privacy. Slowly undoing his pants, Sanzo grimaced when his underwear made stiff cracking noises; _why_ hadn't he realised that coming in his pants wasn't a good idea?

'_Because you were utterly shitfaced, genius.'_

Sanzo growled as he shoved the soiled clothing down, stepping out and kicking them to the side after grabbing his gun, phone and wallet. The situation really called for a shower, but the blonde wasn't stupid enough to think that they'd bought much time for themselves. He didn't even bother checking to see if Gojyo had underwear in his closet: he'd never seen the man wearing any, and it wasn't like he wanted to wear someone else's briefs anyway.

The jeans were slightly easier to get on than Sanzo had expected: they were tighter than he would have preferred, but the bigger size meant that the material didn't cut his circulation off _too_ badly. As he walked back to the others, though, he nearly stumbled from the slightly-too-long pant legs catching on his feet.

The sound of Gojyo's laugh informed him that the redhead was close by, probably in the front room; moving in that general direction, Sanzo came to a stop when he reached the doorway. Crossing his arms over his chest, he waited for the others to realise he was there.

Gojyo was still laughing when he turned slightly, catching sight of the disgruntled blonde standing in the doorway. He abruptly shut up, taking a few steps towards Sanzo.

"Hey, where'd you disapp…_ah_." Gojyo cut himself off as he took in the other man's new jeans. He took a few seconds to look the blonde up and down, Sanzo glaring as he was made to feel like a piece of meat on display.

"Bit long, but they look good on you. Wanna turn around and show me how good your ass looks in 'em?" Winking, Gojyo ducked as a fist swung out for him. "Temper, Blondie."

"Tch, whatever. I'm out of here." Turning, Sanzo started walking for the front door when a warm arm came to rest over his shoulders.

"Oh. Well, where're we going?" Gojyo's curious tone made Sanzo stop, the redhead almost clotheslining him when he tried to move forward.

Shrugging the arm off, Sanzo fixed Gojyo with a steady glare. "_I_ am going elsewhere. _You_ are going back to your brother…or anywhere, really. As long as it's not with me, I don't give a fuck what you do."

The redhead laughed, but it trailed off uncertainly when Sanzo's expression didn't change. Clearly, he thought that he was included in Sanzo's plans, but the blonde knew that _someone_ was about to get a wake-up call.

"If I keep you around, your brother will _never_ leave me alone. You go back, he'll decide I'm not worth the effort and the corpses, and I'll get the Hell out of this clusterfuck that has become my life."

Sanzo managed to dodge the first swing that suddenly came towards him, but he wasn't expecting Gojyo to anticipate his movement and quickly sink a knee into his stomach. Coughing, the blonde tried to keep an eye on Gojyo's next attack, but an elbow to his neck sent him towards the ground.

As he fell, though, Sanzo quickly swung a leg out, catching Gojyo off-guard and sweeping the taller man off his feet. The redhead fell hard, landing on his back with a pained yelp.

Still slightly winded, Sanzo leapt to his feet. He watched warily as Gojyo moved into a crouch, a snarl contorting his reddened face.

It should've been simple for the blonde to step around the desperate lunge Gojyo made for his legs; but as he started to move, the too-long legs of his jeans made him trip, and Sanzo found himself falling backwards as Gojyo took his legs out with a clumsy flying tackle.

Shoving his arms back to catch himself, Sanzo landed awkwardly on his elbows and gasped in pain, trying desperately to shake Gojyo off as the redhead quickly straddled his waist. Swinging a fist up, he managed to catch the redhead on the chin, Gojyo rearing back in shock and giving Sanzo the opportunity he needed to flip their positions.

Now on top, Sanzo's fist came down again and again, catching Gojyo all down the side of his torso until the man was unable to do little more than gasp out ragged, pained breaths.

He was vaguely aware of hands grabbing the back of his shirt, but Sanzo shrugged Goku's efforts to separate them off like they were nothing; until two fingers suddenly dug right into the pressure point in his neck, and the blonde arched his back in agony.

Suddenly, Gojyo was flipping them again; Sanzo tried to struggle, but there was nothing he could do. The redhead had somehow managed to pin him, despite how hard Gojyo was panting.

Leaning forward, Gojyo rested his arms on either side of Sanzo's head and quickly pressed his forehead into the other man's. Sanzo snarled viciously, still trying to get out of the pin, but once again Gojyo proved the better brawler.

Finally starting to calm down, Sanzo's nose crinkled at the smell of alcohol and cigarettes on Gojyo's breath; but he realised that he wouldn't have smelled much better.

Not that scent was currently the issue at hand.

"_Now_," Gojyo hissed, "What was that about leaving me here?"

Taking a deep breath, Sanzo made sure his voice was controlled before replying in a similarly venomous hiss. "I'm getting the _fuck_ out of here. _You're_ going somewhere else, and I will never see you again."

Sanzo saw stars when Gojyo suddenly reared back, cracking his head down into the blonde's.

"_Try again_," the redhead snarled. Sanzo could vaguely hear Goku moving about in the background, but he didn't really care about the small brunette; his focus was Gojyo, and getting out from under the insufferable idiot.

"This isn't a discussion. I'm leaving. _Alone_. Why do you even care?"

Gojyo barked out a bitter laugh, tightening his legs around Sanzo's body. "I don't want to live my life under Jien's control. And I don't want to leave you alone."

Sanzo could've slammed his head into the ground from frustration: why didn't Gojyo _understand_? He just wasn't one to keep company around. "Well, _too bad_. Go back to your brother, your only _family_. I hold nothing: I do things alone. Now _let me go_, fucker."

The redhead was too close for Sanzo to truly see his expression, but he swore that he _felt_ a furious inferno build up around the man pinning him.

And when the redhead spoke, his voice was unhinged, gradually building in volume until it was a hoarse yell.

"I'm not letting you go without me, and I'm not staying behind. _You fucking_ _asshole_, _I LOVE YOU_!"

Sanzo felt his heart stop, his body going slack as he stared in shock at the unfocused face still pressing against his own.

Then, while the blonde was still trying to process what had just happened, Gojyo was suddenly on his feet and disappearing from sight, quick footsteps fading as the front door slammed shut.


	49. Chapter 49: We Run

*******Oh, it's been a busy few weeks: I was finding a new place to live, doing my uni work, and then I spent a few days at the Deni Ute Muster, where I had no access to a computer. I did, however, manage to hand write half this chapter while there, so it wasn't all bad in relation to getting this story done. The end is in sight!*******

* * *

Gojyo hugged his bare arms to his chest, a cold wind battering him as he walked aimlessly through the city's main business district. On any other day, he might have complained about the miserable weather, but today the biting cold made it hard to think; his mind was focused solely on trying to keep his body warm. As long as he kept moving and shivering, little else managed to pervade his thoughts.

Pausing as he waited to cross a busy road, Gojyo started a little when heavy drops of rain suddenly started to hit him, breaking the thoughtless calm he'd eventually managed to create. A handsome, angular face appeared unbidden in the redhead's mind, disgust and cruel amusement twisting the imagined Sanzo's features.

It was the expression that Gojyo knew he would have seen if he'd stayed around to see Sanzo's reaction to his accidental confession. He knew that Sanzo would have been disgusted by the words that came from his mouth: after all, who would want a whore's love? Certainly not a man as unaffected by everything as Sanzo.

The other people gathered at the street corner began to cross as the lights changed, but Gojyo didn't notice- even as a man with a cell phone pressed to his ear shoved right into the motionless redhead.

Now that his carefully-controlled focus had been broken, Gojyo's mind began to run through the million and one ways that Sanzo could have rejected him. He saw the blonde sneer in distaste and walk away; only to reappear again and land a punch in the redhead's face before leaving. He saw Sanzo laugh at him and throw out a few choice insults; and he saw the blonde simply remain utterly still in expression _and_ body, violet eyes staring right through him before the man just disappeared.

In every scenario that Gojyo imagined, he was treated like dirt before the man he loved walked away- and although each vision ended there, the redhead _knew_ that he would never see Sanzo again.

Gojyo didn't have a single thought about what might have happened in Sanzo didn't reject him: he refused to get his hopes up even a little about something so impossible. The blonde was a ruthlessly independent man, and Gojyo figured that there was no room in that solo life for a pitiful fuck-up of an ex-whore. No one had wanted him when he was younger, and since then he'd only been wanted because of the money he brought in.

Sanzo wasn't a pimp, and so it was pretty obvious to Gojyo that the man would never want _or_ need him.

He just wasn't good enough for the dangerous beauty who had stolen his heart. Who he'd given up everything he knew for. Who he'd abandoned his _brother_ for…

Guilt gripped Gojyo as he tipped his head back, letting the cold rain fall heavily onto his face. There _was_ one person who'd wanted him, who'd _always_ tried to help him. And what did Gojyo do in return? He'd treated him like shit, and run off with a man he'd known for about two minutes.

He'd left Jien, even when all his brother wanted to do was make sure he recovered properly and didn't get sucked back into the street life. Without even a word of thanks or a goodbye, the redhead had disappeared out a second-story window like an ungrateful little prick.

Yet another group of people approached the corner and continued walking, Gojyo still staring at the gloomy sky as his heart kept breaking. He'd lost everything: the job he'd once proudly performed, the apartment he'd lived in for years, the only person he'd ever fallen for, and now he might just have lost the only person who'd ever cared about him.

He wouldn't have been surprised if Jien wanted to exact a punishment for his transgressions, and then throw him away with the rest of the trash. Certainly, Gojyo wouldn't blame his brother for something like that. It was the least that the redhead thought he deserved.

The brakes of a passing car suddenly screeched loudly against the dampened road, but Gojyo didn't bother to further investigate the noise. The driver was probably a normal, happy person with a loving partner and a respectable job, maybe even kids who would one day make their parents very proud. Gojyo didn't want to see that kind of person: it only reminded him of what he didn't have, and what he would _never_ have.

The redhead was so lost in bitter thoughts that he didn't feel the hand that came to rest on his rain-soaked shoulder. It was only when a quiet voice said his name that Gojyo finally came back to himself, dripping wet and standing alone on a busy corner.

Laughing wearily, Gojyo muttered to himself, "Just like the old days."

"You've done this before?" That same quiet voice asked, reminding Gojyo of just _why_ he'd lost his train of thought. Turning slightly, he saw a kind green eye looking at him from behind a glass lens, the other eye hidden by the fall of brown hair.

"Hakkai," Gojyo greeted softly, hoping that the brunette wasn't actually looking for an answer to his question. But it seemed that Hakkai wasn't so easily deterred, the man moving to stand directly in front of Gojyo.

"Good afternoon, Gojyo. Please excuse my curiosity- but _have_ you spent a lot of time standing in the rain while the world moves on around you?"

"It's afternoon already?" The redhead wondered aloud, stalling slightly. He must have been out of it for longer than he'd thought. Sanzo was probably halfway to Tijuana already.

Looking back into Hakkai's eyes, Gojyo saw no sign that the brunette would move the conversation forward until he got his answer. Unlike the people rushing past them, who looked desperate to get out of the rain, Hakkai didn't seem to be bothered by the downpour at all. Sighing, Gojyo relented.

"When I first started walking the streets, it was the middle of winter. First night on a corner, it was fuckin' pouring. I still picked up, though." Gojyo shuddered a little as he remembered the first client he'd found from a street corner. It had been a middle-aged man with greying hair and a beer gut, who'd been a little _too_ into the idea of having a gorgeous, young submissive.

The handcuff marks had lasted for over a week.

"Hmmm," Hakkai hummed sympathetically. "Would you like to get out of the rain for a while?"

Suddenly hyperaware of his drenched state, Gojyo almost agreed. Then he realised why Hakkai was probably braving the gradually worsening weather, rather than staying inside where it was warm and dry.

"You're here to take me back, aren't you." He didn't bother stating where. There was only one place that Hakkai would take him.

"Yes, Gojyo. I am." The slightly apologetic note in the brunette's voice was a little strange, but Gojyo shrugged it off. The guilt was still gnawing away at him, and somewhere along the line he'd become resigned to his fate.

"Alright. Let's get out of here, then."

Hakkai seemed a little surprised that Gojyo had given in so easily, but the redhead was cold, wet and heartbroken. He honestly couldn't give a single fuck about what Jien would do to him, just as long as it made his older brother feel better.

"My car is just here." Hakkai gestured to his left, and Gojyo easily recognised the Jeep that he'd been in once before. Shoulders slumped in an obvious sign of defeat, the bedraggled redhead moved to the vehicle, Hakkai following close behind.

"He's worried sick about you, you know," the brunette murmured without chastisement or judgement as he unlocked the car. Gojyo just made a non-committal noise, settling into the passenger seat without another word.

* * *

Sanzo swore loudly as the pouring rain began to completely cover the stolen car's windshield, the worn-down wipers ineffective against the downpour. But at least his rain-impaired vision meant that he had to focus more on the road than…other things…

He still felt more than a little drunk from the previous night, but being over the legal limit was the least of his concerns. If he was pulled up, he'd never pay a fine or go to court: the address on his perfectly-forged license didn't exist anywhere other than in the government bureaucracy. And if they took his license away on the spot, there was nothing to stop him from simply walking to the nearest car park, stealing a different car, and continuing on his way.

Besides, if he crashed, maybe he'd be lucky enough to kill himself and stop all of his idiotic thoughts about a certain idiotic hooker and his idiotic mouth.

Shit, Gojyo's foolishness was _still_ astounding him. Where did the redhead get off, spouting his mouth about something as stupid as _love_? Love didn't exist in this world. Lust did, and hatred was certainly everywhere; but love was just another name for getting hurt.

After his father died, Sanzo swore that he would never get hurt again. That was a vow he was planning on keeping, and his plan didn't involve giving up his word for some flighty whore. And it wasn't as if no one had ever proclaimed their love for him before: more than one of his single-night flings had run up to him in the street, practically sobbing as they confessed their 'love' and begged for a proper date.

Without fail, every single one of them had been brushed off without a second thought. Hell, Sanzo could barely remember what any of them looked like, let alone their _names_- if he'd even bothered to learn those in the first place. He usually didn't.

A sleek convertible suddenly cut into his lane, and Sanzo leant on the horn, shouting obscenities that the other driver would never hear. Another car on the highway joined in on the honking, probably just for shits and giggles; the blonde cursed them out, too. His mood was beyond livid, and the racket wasn't helping. The urge to simply drive into oncoming traffic was growing, which Sanzo certainly didn't appreciate.

He'd survived years on his own, living out of a small bag as he made the eventually-futile journey to find the real Sanzo's murderer: he could survive a love-struck whore, a homicidal boss and, well, Hakkai. They'd never find him this time, anyway: he was going the same way as before, and was planning on stopping with Yakumo for a little while to make it look like he was staying there. Once his tracks were laid, though, he was planning on heading a lot further: he'd find _someone_ who knew the name 'Sanzo'.

The cell phone in his pocket vibrated, and the blonde dug one hand into his jeans, pointedly not thinking about where those jeans had come from. Accepting the call after a quick glance at the screen, Sanzo gave the caller only the bare minimum of his focus.

"What?"

"Ko-…Sanzo, I got your message," Yakumo's tinny-sounding voice said. "Are you sure it's a good idea for you to come back here after…well, after last time?"

Sanzo sneered, not pleased about Yakumo questioning his judgement. "I'm only staying long enough to make it look like I'm working for you again. Then I'm getting the fuck away from you and that traitorous bitch who sold me out."

"Hey! Well…fair call on Kanzeon, maybe, but what'd I ever do to you?" Yakumo sounded damn offended, but the blonde just scoffed, most of his attention still on the road.

"I don't appreciate _anyone_ trying to get into my pants."

There was a moment of silence, before Yakumo suddenly burst out laughing. "Does that mean you're a virgin, Sanzo? Shit, pretty guy like you, I'd never have picked it!"

As the laughter started up again, the blonde grit his teeth and focused on not skidding off the highway, ignoring Yakumo's gleeful exclamation.

"I never said that. I just don't want you." Although he wanted nothing more than to get the conversation back on track, Sanzo felt his pride hurting from Yakumo's laughter. He reminded himself to shoot the idiot when he finally made it to the gang leader's house.

"Ooooh, so who _do_ you want?" Yakumo asked playfully, obviously enjoying the discomfort that he was causing the other man. A low growl from Sanzo set the older man off on another bout of laughter, the blonde's grip tightening dangerously around his phone.

"We will _not_ be having this discussion. I'll get into town tomorrow."

A heavy sigh sounded in Sanzo's ear, Yakumo finally getting the hint. "Fine. I won't bring up whoever it is that you're fucking- or wanting to fuck. But remember, you want something from me, you gotta do something for me."

"Tch, whatever, asshole. Just keep your hands and your comments to yourself, unless you want a few ventilation holes added to your face." Disconnecting the call without waiting for a reply, Sanzo contemplated throwing the device out the window before simply chucking it onto the passenger seat. He didn't really want to deal with Yakumo, but the man owed him big time after what Kanzeon had done. Sanzo figured that now was as good a time as any to make the man pay out on that debt.

But _fuck_, the man was annoying. With his constant flirting and wandering hands, he was almost as bad as Gojyo…

Sanzo groaned, pride alone keeping him from banging his head against the steering wheel. The last thing he wanted to think about was the redhead, so dangerously dominating as he pinned Sanzo to the ground time and time again…

"Oh, for _fuck's SAKE!" _The blonde screamed as he felt a familiar heat begin to rise in his lower abdomen. He would _not_ be turned on by the thought of Gojyo's hands holding him down, those long legs pressing tight against him to keep him in place…

He heard the man yell about his love once more, Gojyo's voice sounding effortlessly sensual even as frustration and pain coloured the tone.

The heat in his stomach growing, Sanzo swore again and pulled off to the side of the highway, running a hand through his messy hair. He couldn't drive in the pouring rain when all his mind wanted to do was think about Gojyo, the stupid prick. He was leaving the man behind: what the redhead thought he felt didn't matter one bit.

Sanzo was getting the fuck out of dodge, and he was leaving Gojyo as far away as he possibly could. Hell, now that he'd left the redhead alone, maybe his brother would stop this ridiculous hit and move onto something else.

It was for the best that Sanzo got away from that city and everyone in it.

As he pulled back onto the road, the blonde repeated that final thought to himself, over and over again.


	50. Chapter 50: We Fight

*******I'm all hyped up on V, so let's do this shit! I don't know if this chapter is a little jumpy, though…oh well. I couldn't spend any more time having them piss-fart around. It's time for some_ action._*******

* * *

"Plane ticket, credit card, passport, driver's license, social security card: if you need it, it's in here." Yakumo held a large envelope out, waiting for Sanzo to take it. The blonde snatched up the papers, quickly opening the package to flick through the contents.

Pulling out the plane ticket, Sanzo frowned as he looked at the date printed there. "Tomorrow? Why isn't this for today?"

"Bloody Hell, Sanzo, I rushed this job as much as I could. You've been here, what, three days? A few more hours ain't gonna hurt." Yakumo crossed his arms, attempting to stare down the other man. Sanzo was having none of that.

"A few more hours is all Dokugakuji needs to find my ass, and send Hakkai after me again. And the last thing I want is Goj-…I don't feel like dealing with all that shit." Shoving the ticket back into the envelope with an annoyed huff, the blonde dropped the packet onto the desk before him. Across the table, Yakumo was now fiddling with a small switchblade, flicking the knife in and out of the handle.

Sanzo sighed, gracefully standing from his chair and taking the envelope up again. "Goodbye, Yakumo."

"Wait, wait. I do all this for you, and I don't even get a 'thank you'? Sanzo, I like ya, kid, but I don't do shit for free." Faltering before he could start walking away, the blonde slowly turned back to the seated man, appraising him.

"If it's sex or company, I'll shoot you where you sit."

Yakumo scoffed, shaking his head a little and placing the switchblade on the desk. "You think I'm that stupid? No, I just have a little job for you. What I need-…hang on." Yakumo motioned for Sanzo to sit again as his cell phone rang, interrupting his request. Flipping open the device, the older man leant back in his chair and muttered a greeting.

"…uh-huh…well, what do they want?..._really?_...I know it sounds suspicious, but…listen, pat them down and then just keep 'em up the front. I'll come down in a minute."

From what little he heard of the conversation, Sanzo couldn't tell exactly what was going on. From the deep frown on Yakumo's face, though, it wasn't a good thing. Putting his phone down, the crime boss ran a hand through his hair and stood up.

"Sorry, Sanzo, but some guys out the front need to talk to me. Say they know who's been ratting on me to the _other_ major gang in this city- which, funnily enough, was why I wanted to send ya out tonight. Stay here. I'll be back in a minute."

Unconcerned, Sanzo shrugged and dug out his pack of cigarettes, putting one in his mouth and quickly lighting it. As he heard Yakumo's footsteps disappear down the hall, he immediately stood and followed: even if he didn't particularly care what was happening, he wasn't about to follow an order from a prick like Yakumo.

Quietly moving to the front of the house, Sanzo peered around a corner to see Yakumo and two other men standing in the doorway. It was a little difficult to tell, but it looked like three or four men were standing just outside; edging a little closer, Sanzo tried to hear the conversation.

"What do you have to tell me, and _why_ are you telling me? I know you: you all work for _them_."

There was a low laugh, and the sound of four pistols cocking at once had Sanzo immediately falling into battle mode. One of Yakumo's men let out a shout, but it was quickly smothered by two fast gun shots. Drawing his own revolver, Sanzo looked up just in time to see both guards falling to the ground, Yakumo darting to the side so that he could use the wall to shield himself.

"We know that you have a certain Sanzo working for you right now. Tell us where he is, and we'll let you live."

His eyes narrowing, Sanzo pulled his head back from the corner. Were these some of Doku's guys? They'd been damn good shots: the two guards had died before they could even draw their guns. But shouldn't Yakumo have more men around? And shouldn't someone have searched the 'visitors' for weapons before they could enter the property?

Shaking his head a little, Sanzo returned to the present. Someone was out for him: it wouldn't pay to lose his focus.

"The only Sanzo I know died along time ago. Tell your boss that he got his wires crossed." Yakumo's angry shout sent a quick flash of relief through Sanzo: the man wasn't about to give him up. This made things a _little _easier.

"I don't think so, Yakumo. We know that he's working for you, and we know that there's one _Hell_ of a price on his head. Give him up before we kill you."

"You have _no_ idea what you're talking about." Quick as a flash, Yakumo ducked his head out to look over the situation; he pulled himself back to safety just before three bullets flew through the open doorway. "And don't look now, boys, but I think you'll find that you're surrounded."

Peering out again, Sanzo saw that five suited-up men were now standing behind the four intruders, guns drawn. His hackles rose, though, when the man that had been speaking began to laugh hysterically.

"Oh, Yakumo. You don't know, do you. How do you think we got in here so easily? All these men are working _with_ us…even if we don't get Sanzo, we're taking over your business. It's a win-win situation." The man gestured, and five more guns were suddenly trained on the doorway.

"_Fuck_."

It was a simple enough statement, but Yakumo's curse served almost like a signal: in the blink of an eye, all Hell began to break loose.

Crouching, Sanzo ducked out from the corner and quickly fired, hitting one man in the chest and head before pulling back. As the men outside dived for cover, one of them shouting out orders, Sanzo heard gunfire in the distance. One of the traitors fell, most likely from an unseen ally of Yakumo's.

The boss himself quickly headed for the front room, and Sanzo scoffed: what a coward, running from a fight.

The disgust quickly became surprise, though, as Yakumo reappeared and pressed himself against the doorframe: in his hands, he held a large shotgun.

Trying to get a decent shot, Sanzo found that he was too far back to be effective: but because this fight was _his_ fault, he was going to take down a few more of these bastards.

Pressing himself as close to the wall as he could, the blonde ran into the hall and heard a window shatter. Quickly realising that it had been in the front room, he sprinted through the door, throwing himself into a crouch under the now-broken window.

Peeking up, he quickly ducked as someone spotted him, a second bullet shattering more of the glass. From his new position, the shouting and discharging guns were much louder; someone screamed, but he didn't bother to check who it was.

Quickly looking up to survey the situation, he saw that one of the traitors was wide open from his current vantage point, and the man received a bullet to the skull before he crumpled to the ground.

If Sanzo hadn't been quite so focused on his own actions, he might have noticed that the loud sound of Yakumo's shotgun suddenly ceased only seconds later; but he'd fallen into his own world, all his concentration dedicated to staying alive and taking out as many enemies as possible.

Time was inconsequential as Sanzo continued to act on instinct alone, covering, shooting and reloading as if he were in a trance. One by one, the men outside fell until only two remained: Sanzo didn't think that either had been with the group of traitors, but he wasn't about to take any chances. Keeping low, he moved back to the hallway, where one of the two men had bolted.

"Oh _fuck, _Yakumo!" The anguished shout threw Sanzo out of his battle trance, and his eyes widened as he saw the boss slumped against the wall, bleeding heavily from two wounds in his chest.

"The…fuckers…got me," he panted, hand groping around for nothing in particular. As the man who had run inside dropped to his knees and ripped Yakumo's shirt open, followed quickly by the other remaining man, Sanzo cautiously stood up. These two didn't seem to be traitors, and he vaguely recognised them as the two who had been at the bar with Yakumo and Kanzeon.

"Just hang on, boss. You'll be fine." The one who was on his knees pulled out a cell phone, but Yakumo's hand suddenly shot up and blocked the man from making a call.

"Don't bother…I'm done." Listlessly, the older man's head fell to the side, unfocused eyes landing directly on Sanzo.

"Kouryuu…do what I…couldn't. It's a-all yours…"

The blonde inhaled sharply as the two other men turned to look at him, eyes wide in shock.

"I don't…" he started, only to be cut off by a laugh that quickly dissolved into a wet cough.

"I trust you…Kouryuu. You…gr-grew up nicely…and you shouldn't be…taking orders." A small smile crossed Yakumo's lips as he coughed again, a line of blood trailing from his mouth to join the growing pool of red on and around him.

"But I…"

"Sh-shut up, Kouryuu…it's time you earned…the name Sanzo…"

Watching the man die sent something painful through Sanzo, his mind merging the current moment with a distant, painful memory until he wasn't sure if he was watching Yakumo or his father slowly fade away. He wasn't sure why: he'd watched a _lot_ of people die over his life, and none of them had even made him _flinch_.

But as the two men rushed to stem the blood rushing from their boss' chest, Sanzo found his breath start to come harder and faster as he fell into the past.

'_I love you…Kouryuu. Whatever you do…don't forget…that.'_

'_Father! I…I…'_

'_You're strong, Kouryuu…you don't…need me. You can eas-…easily reach the top…and make me proud.'_

The memory shattered as Sanzo watched his father die for the umpteenth time, raising his head to see Yakumo's eyes flutter closed. The ragged panting quieted and stopped completely as the two men paused in their movements, faces pale as they realised that their boss was gone.

Shaking himself out of his stupor, Sanzo slowly walked up to the men, who rose to meet him. He wasn't sure why he was doing this…but he couldn't let his father down.

"You," the blonde ordered, pointing to one of the men. "Deal with the body. Make the funeral arrangements quickly, and call a meeting of all your top players."

The man looked at him a little uncertainly, but Sanzo had already moved on to the other man. "As for you, check to see if anyone is still alive out there. I don't care what you have to do, just find out who _else_ is a traitor around here."

Glancing uneasily at each other, some sort of silent communication seemed to pass between the two subordinates. Just before Sanzo got angry at them, though, the pair nodded. One stepped forward, his green eyes staring directly into Sanzo's.

"It ain't how we usually do things, giving control to someone who isn't one of us…but Yakumo talked a _lot_ about the two Sanzos. If you're as good as he reckoned you were, then it won't be hard for ya to take over. I'll call a district head meeting here in thirty minutes."

The man turned around and hurried off, immediately starting to talk into his phone. The other man just looked Sanzo in the eyes and nodded slowly once more before going outside, checking each body for signs of life.

Now that he was alone, Sanzo felt _sick_. He didn't want to do this: he wanted to get on his plane and leave this failed coup behind. The _last_ thing he needed was to inadvertently get sucked into running an entire fucking criminal organisation, particularly one with a traitor problem.

But his father…his father had taught him to take responsibility.

It was _his_ fault that Yakumo was dead; that the gang was without a leader. The real Sanzo would never have ignored an ally's dying words, particularly if the death was because of him: and as much as he hated to admit it, Yakumo had certainly been a powerful ally. Sanzo _owed_ the man.

Reaching for another cigarette, having quickly lost his first one in the skirmish, Sanzo lit up and took a deep, relaxing drag. He was going to need to be as calm as possible when he faced the high-ranking members of Yakumo's organisation.

No…_his_ organisation.

* * *

Gojyo leaned on the railing of the balcony, looking blankly at Jien's well-tended garden as he chain-smoked.

He missed Sanzo. He honestly _missed_ the pissy blonde bastard, insulting attitude and all. He just wanted to hear the man's voice, see those gorgeous features, feel that amazing body against his own.

He wanted to tell the man that he loved him, again and again.

Hearing the door behind him slide open, the redhead glanced over his shoulder. Seeing his older brother, he nodded in greeting. When he'd trudged up to the door three days ago with Hakkai, drenched and heartbroken, he'd been regarded with suspicion; but as soon as Jien had heard that Sanzo had skipped town, Gojyo had been welcomed back with open arms.

The fact that his brother hadn't been angry had come as a shock to the redhead; but Hakkai had later informed him that Jien had just been _worried_. Even in his misery, Gojyo had felt a slight warmth in his gut from that knowledge.

"Plannin' on standing out here all day, Gojyo?" The larger man settled with his back to the railing, _almost_ arm-to-arm with his sibling. A tiny smirk pulled at the redhead's lips, and he exhaled a mouthful of smoke,

"I gotta work on my tan, don't I?"

The pair simultaneously looked up at the gloomy sky, Jien chuckling a little. "You're gonna be out here for a while, then."

Smoking the last of his cigarette, Gojyo ground it out on the railing before tossing it towards the ashtray. Silence fell for a few moments, until the redhead decided to ask something that had been bothering him.

"Jien?"

"Yeah?"

"…Why don't you hate me? I ran off with a guy who betrayed you…somehow." Gojyo frowned as he realised that he _still_ hadn't found out why Sanzo had incurred Jien's wrath. He supposed it didn't matter, though. The man was gone.

"You're my brother. I can't hate you." The answer was simple, but Jien's tone didn't leave room for uncertainty. With a slow nod, Gojyo collapsed into one of the chairs sitting out on the balcony. Eventually, the older man joined him.

"You really miss him, don't you."

Gojyo's head snapped around to face his brother, red eyes wide. But Jien was looking off to the side, blocking his expression from view. Even without a name, Gojyo knew exactly who the other man was referring to.

"I love him. Of _course_ I miss him. But he never even _cared._"

Jien turned back to face Gojyo, and it was obvious from his expression that he was struggling with something. The redhead sat in silence, watching his brother debate internally about something.

Eventually, Jien sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Did he ever tell you why he ended up on the hit list?"

Eyes widening, Gojyo shook his head. Doku laughed humourlessly, his fingers beginning to tap on the balcony table. "Of course he didn't tell you.

"It was when you were in the hospital. He was acting really weird one day, and he told me it was 'cause a friend of his was in the hospital. I told him to fuck off until he had his issues sorted. Not long after that, he let something slip…and I thought I might have found you."

Jien smiled, and Gojyo couldn't help it: he smiled back. It was…nice, talking to his brother again.

"When I got to the hospital…he was already there. He refused to let me into your room."

"_What?"_ Gojyo gasped. "Why the fuck would he do that?"

"He was trying to protect you…so that I couldn't hurt you again."

Mouth dropping open, Gojyo stared at his brother in shock. "So why the _fuck_ did you try to kill him?"

"Gojyo, he wanted to keep me away from you! From my own _brother!_ I couldn't let that happen!"

Standing up, Gojyo lashed out, grabbing the front of Jien's shirt and dragging the man to his feet. "You're telling me that you want to kill the _man I love_ because he was _looking out for me_? What the fuck kind of brother are you?"

Jien's fists clenched, but he forced himself to remain still. He wouldn't hurt Gojyo any more than he already had. "I made a bad decision in the heat of the moment. You don't understand how this business works, Gojyo: it's kill or be killed. Collateral damage is racked up every day."

"_My lover is not __**collateral damage**__, you unfeeling son of a __**bitch!**__"_

Shoving Jien to the ground, Gojyo stormed back into the house.

Dammit, he wasn't going down without a fight anymore.

He was sick of this shit.


	51. Chapter 51: I Lead

*******Sorry about the long wait and the shortish chapter, I cut it off because the next major plot point takes place several days after this chapter ends. I've finally got a little bit of time, and Ardespuffy reminded me that some people _are_ actually wanting to know what happens (I forget that only I know how this ends). So don't worry, I won't abandon this so close to the finish line. We'll get to the end…eventually…*******

* * *

Sanzo felt strange as he sat in Yakumo's office, taking up the chair that the dead man used to. He had to admit, the two men who had been charged with sorting out the mess downstairs had worked well. Yakumo's body had already been sent for funeral preparations, and the remaining corpses were in the process of being cleared away.

He'd also received word that the few survivors were currently facing interrogation. Having performed more than one of those himself, the blonde knew that it probably wouldn't take too much longer to get the answers he wanted. It was all well and good for gangs to talk about undying silence and loyalty, but these men had already proved themselves to be disloyal.

Faced with the choice of a quick death or a lengthy, painful one, there was a high chance that at least one of the traitors would become disloyal to their _new_ master and spill everything.

Sanzo suspected that the attempted coup went higher than the average grunt level: that was why he'd been sitting in the office for an hour and a half, fending off question after question from the assembled district heads as he waited for information about the rebellion. Out of the eight or so people across from him, he only recognised two: the man who had called the meeting together, and Kanzeon.

The transvestite bitch was sitting in the centre of the room with the other men standing behind her, disinterestedly examining her long nails as the others argued. The room was split into two factions: those who would honour their former boss' wishes by tentatively accepting Sanzo as their new leader, and those who steadfastly maintained that an outsider couldn't lead them.

Quite honestly, the blonde couldn't care less about what the group thought. He was in control, and if they didn't like it, he had no problems with them leaving. He'd just deal with them later.

Two men, neither of whom Sanzo could name, were interrupted from their heated argument when a loud knock came at the door. Guessing that it was the guy he'd put onto the interrogations- and the sole district head missing from the meeting- Sanzo stood and pushed through the assembled group, opening the door.

The man he'd sent out for information was standing there with a grim look on his face, and so Sanzo immediately stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him. "What do you know?"

"There's good news, and there's bad news…"

"Just get the hell on with it," the blonde snapped. His patience was running out- it had been a long day, and it was still only mid-afternoon.

"The guys involved with the attack were all from Kanzeon's district. As far as I can tell, she's the only head involved, and it looks like she was attempting a straight-forward takeover, using you a convenient excuse to get at Yakumo. You might wanna watch your back."

"Tch," Sanzo muttered dismissively as he walked back into the office, hearing the man follow him. Taking his place at the desk again, the blonde blocked out the discussions still going on around him.

There were two ways he could handle this: the easy way, and the hard way.

The easy path would have short-term repercussions, and could easily backfire on him. But the hard path would involve a lot of careful manoeuvring, and possibly give Kanzeon enough time to bring some of the dissenting leaders onto her side.

Sanzo was a man of immediate action: it didn't take him long to decide which course to take. The district heads were still arguing amongst themselves, now paying very little attention to their new boss. No one even noticed as Sanzo reached into his jacket, quickly pulling his revolver and letting off two shots.

The result was instantaneous: at the sound of the first shot, all conversation ceased as the standing men instinctively dropped into crouches or behind cover, drawing their own weapons. Kanzeon let out an ear-splitting shriek as the first bullet pierced her forehead, but the noise fell into a watery groan as the second hit straight after.

She slumped into her chair, convulsing slightly, as blood dripped onto the floor and Sanzo placed his gun onto the desk. Looking around, he could see a number of gun barrels pointing directly towards him, but he calmly sat back in his chair.

"What the _fuck_ was that?" One of the dissenters growled from where he was crouched against a wall. Sanzo regarded him with a cold stare, letting the silence stretch before he answered.

"She was responsible for the attack on Yakumo. Would you prefer I let her live?"

There were a few uneasy looks around the room, and Sanzo leaned back in his chair with an eyebrow raised, waiting to see if someone would openly confront him. Finally, a man with dirty blond hair stood up on the other side of the room.

"How do we know you ain't just bullshitting us? That you aren't just gonna shoot us all and be done with it?"

Sanzo ignored the Colt that the man had trained on him, his glare unwavering as he dared the idiot to challenge him further. "I trust that I'm working with reliable information. As long as I don't find out that I've been misinformed and none of you fire the pieces you're holding, then everyone here will live. For now."

"But you're an outsider. What the Hell do _you_ know about the way we do things?"

Unimpressed by the man's attitude, Sanzo picked up the switchblade that Yakumo had left on the desk and began twirling it between his fingers. Without looking up, he asked the man, "How many years have you been in this business?"

"…What?" Came the confused reply. Sanzo glanced up but remained silent, not about to repeat his question. The man got the hint eventually, his brow furrowing as he answered.

"Just over twelve years, I reckon."

Sanzo let out a quiet snort. "Pathetic. I was in this world before I could walk. Don't try and tell me what I do and don't know, you imbecile.

"Now, I want you all back here at this time tomorrow. Anyone who has a problem with me taking over is free to leave this organisation: providing that you stay out of my way, I won't kill you. Those of you who aren't complete idiots, you can continue business as usual. And take your stupid questions somewhere else, I don't want to hear them."

The silence practically rang around the room, but no one made to leave. Rolling his eyes, Sanzo stood and made his way to the door. He paused before opening it, looking back over his shoulder as a few whispered conversations began. "And somebody needs to deal with that body."

Pulling the door open, he stormed out of the room, slamming the wood behind him with a loud bang.

Despite the threat of a rebellion, the apparent idiocy of half the people left in the office, and the fact that this was entirely new territory, Sanzo couldn't find it in himself to feel _completely _annoyed. Because really, he no longer had to answer to anyone but himself, and that was _definitely _a preferable situation.

'_This __might __not __be __such __a __horrific __position __after __all.__'_

* * *

Gojyo sat on his- no, _Goku__'__s_ couch, leaning forward to drum his fingers along the coffee table as he tried his hardest to concentrate.

He had just enough money to get by, no job and no idea where Sanzo could have gone. Screw being back at square one, he wasn't even on the fucking _board_ at this point.

Over the past few days, he'd thought more than once of going back onto the street: he knew that he could scrape together quite a few grand in a week or less. But then he'd imagine Sanzo's reaction if the blonde ever found out about it, and his desperation would be overtaken by the desire to stay alive.

Even Goku had encouraged him to stay away from the old business…though that wasn't helped by the fact that the boy was always coming and going from Zakuro's club.

The boy must've been somewhat of a romantic: Gojyo had explained the whole situation to him, and the characteristically childish response had gone along the lines of, "Well if ya like him so much, y'may as well make sure he's gonna be happy when you see him next, right?"

Gojyo didn't have the heart to tell him that he might not see the blonde anymore; or maybe he just didn't want to admit that to himself.

After all, he'd completely cut his ties with his brother this time, the second last person in the city who'd actually had his back. Now it was just him and Goku, the boy once again graciously allowing Gojyo to crash with him in the redhead's former apartment. The chances of him tracking Sanzo with absolutely no inside contacts were slim to none, if that.

And as much as he hated to think it, the kid could easily give him away if Jien's men were still poking around. He wouldn't do it on purpose, Hell no: but Goku had quite the mouth on him, and Gojyo doubted that he even knew what 'discretion' meant. But the guy meant well, and Gojyo could respect that.

Sighing to himself, Gojyo shifted to lie back on the couch. He wasn't getting any further in his plan to track Sanzo down, and he knew that if he let his mind wander _too_ far, he'd start getting melancholic again.

Hell, the only reason he hadn't thrown himself off the balcony yet was the knowledge that Sanzo was out there, _somewhere_.

Gojyo couldn't help the snort of laughter that escaped him. God, he was so pathetic right now. Again.

…Maybe he could find a way to contact Hakkai, the man had helped him out before, and it seemed like the brunette knew a lot more than any single person should…it was possible that he would know something about where Sanzo had disappeared to…

_No_. No, he couldn't do that: Hakkai was too close to Jien. And even though he'd helped Gojyo out more than once, the brunette's loyalty was uncertain. Gojyo wanted to trust the man, he really did; but years of being on his own had taught him that no one else could _truly_ be trusted.

And that went double when gang members were involved.

He'd thought his brother was pretty close to being trustworthy: of course, _that_ had all disappeared when he'd found out the stupid, petty reason why Jien wanted to kill Sanzo.

A pathetic ex-whore wasn't worth fighting over. Especially when one party involved steadfastly maintained that he didn't give a single fuck about the man stuck in the middle of the argument.

Gojyo _almost_ believed that Sanzo did care, just a little, because of what he'd apparently done in the hospital all those weeks ago; he just wasn't stupid enough to _completely_ believe it. He would make the blonde admit it to his face, and _then_ he would allow himself the satisfaction of knowing he'd broken through Sanzo's barriers.

Gojyo smirked, glad he'd managed to stave off the impending depression: he _wanted_ to get that satisfaction, and what a good feeling it would be when he did.

Filled with a new determination, Gojyo sat up straight. He wasn't sure exactly how he'd do it, but he _was_ going to find Sanzo.

And when he did, the man was going to find out just how serious Gojyo had been when he'd said that he loved the blonde.


	52. Chapter 52: I Hire

Sanzo raised a blonde eyebrow at the man standing in front of him, utterly unimpressed. There may not have been any major incidents in the time since he'd taken over from Yakumo, with all the district leaders eventually deciding to keep the status quo, but he hadn't realised he'd have someone on his back about _this_ so soon.

"Sir, you _need_ a second. You can't keep doing everything on your own."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Sanzo replied sarcastically. "I didn't realise your job is to tell me what to do." The other man paled slightly, probably remembering what had happened to Kanzeon in that very room; but he didn't back down, which Sanzo grudgingly had to respect.

"That's not what I meant, it's just that…well…you're in danger without a second. Yakumo's second was killed not long before he himself was, so he was vulnerable when Kanzeon pulled her attack. It'll be better for all of us if you stay as protected as possible."

"I can take care of myself."

"I'm not saying that you can't, but the other thing is that you really don't know any of us. As much as I hate to say it, you need to bring in someone _you_ can trust- one more outsider won't make too much of a difference." The man's confidence was clearly growing, and Sanzo decided to put a healthy bit of fear back into him before he got _too_ cocky.

"Tell me how to do my job again and I'll kill you. Now get the fuck out of my office."

Luckily for him, the man took the threat seriously: he was gone in a matter of seconds. Sanzo leant back in his chair with a frustrated sigh, gaze darting around his office- it was definitely his now, as was the whole house. Yakumo's will had left everything to his unnamed successor, as the man's family was long-estranged, and so Sanzo had inherited everything on the property.

Not that the blonde particularly wanted any of the dead man's junk: it seemed like the guy was still annoying him from beyond the grave. Yakumo would probably be laughing his ass off at how easy it was for the gang members to rile up their new boss.

Like this second shit. Someone Sanzo could _trust?_ He didn't have anyone like that. Sure, he could appreciate the need _some_ people would have for a second: Dokugakuji had relied on him for everything, the lazy asshole.

But, like he told the man who had just run off, he could look after himself perfectly well. He wasn't doing _too_ much work on his own…

A small voice in the back of his head suddenly piped up. '_Face __it,__ you__'__re __doing__ a __lot __more__ than__ you__ should.__ And__ he__ was __right:__ if __you __don__'__t __have __a __second, __there__'__s __no __one __to __take __a __bullet __for __you.__'_

Slamming his closed fist onto the desk, Sanzo shoved a cigarette between his lips.

What the _fuck_ was he going to do about this situation?

* * *

Gojyo grumbled to himself as he walked down a quiet residential street, taking the last drag from his cigarette before tossing it onto the road. He was _not_ in a good mood.

Two weeks. Two _fucking_ weeks of trying to find any scrap of information about where Sanzo might have disappeared to, and he still had absolutely nothing. His patience was running out, and he got a little closer to the end of his rope every time a promising source knew nothing other than, 'He's gone'.

For one of the very first times in his life, Gojyo regretted staying relatively far away from the inner workings of the criminal underworld. Maybe, if he'd allowed himself to get closer to that dangerous world, he would have some better contacts to use in this situation. But it was too late for that now, and he couldn't even use his status as Dokugakuji's brother to reach some of the higher-ups: he wasn't sure if the man was still hunting for him.

Gojyo knew that Jien would try his hardest to stop the redhead from finding Sanzo, and if he was taken back under Jien's watchful eye then his already-futile search would become even more hopeless. While he still had his freedom, there was a tiny thread of hope that he could find _something _about Sanzo's new location.

He had to talk to some…less than savoury individuals in his search, and Jien would hate that. The hypocrite.

Scowling, Gojyo continued making his way back to his old apartment. Goku, as crazily generous as he was, had pretty much forced Gojyo to stay with him free of charge. The kid had said that he wasn't mean enough to kick someone out of their own apartment, and even though Gojyo had repeatedly pointed out that it was Goku's home now, the brunette had just grinned and asked him to stay.

The kid was even paying for his food, which made Gojyo feel utterly useless. But Goku had insisted that he was making more money than he could possibly have used on himself- which was an unpleasant reminder of where all Gojyo's profits had once gone. He guessed that Goku probably had a point, though, because he himself would've been in the same situation had he not tried to fuck over a loanshark.

In any case, Gojyo was determined to pay the kid back someday. Without him, the redhead would've only had two choices: going back to his brother, or going back to Zakuro. Neither was particularly appealing, though the latter more than the former: even if he _did_ manage to find Sanzo, the man would probably never speak to him again if he knew that Gojyo had been selling himself once more.

The redhead glanced up at a street sign, turning the corner as he tried to figure out how far he was from the apartment. He was almost there, but he decided that there was time for one more smoke. Pulling the half-empty pack from his pocket, Gojyo stopped walking as he bent his head down to light it.

From the corner of his eye he saw a car quietly pull to a stop beside him, but he paid it no serious mind. Because the area was made up of houses and flats, it wasn't unusual for cars to park along the street; but, just in case, he kept a small amount of attention on the vehicle. The engine was still idling away, and Gojyo's street-honed paranoia had him start walking again as the car doors opened.

It was _almost_ unsurprising when a hand grabbed the back of his T-shirt, and the redhead immediately spun around in an effort to dislodge the grip. He heard the material tear a little when the hand didn't let go, but he could now see that his attacker's arm was stretched completely straight.

Taking advantage, Gojyo slammed his elbow down onto the other man's extended elbow, the impact enough to loosen the man's fingers so that the redhead could get away. As he tried to decide whether he should run or fight, Gojyo felt the wind being knocked out of him as a second assailant quickly ducked in from the side, his arm grabbing the redhead's waist and dragging him to the ground.

Gojyo tried to struggle, but there were suddenly two rather strong guys forcing him over onto his stomach. He realised that there was a third man when his arms were wrenched behind him, the unmistakable feel of metal handcuffs settling around his wrists with a loud click.

His heart sank. Jien had finally found him: he must have walked past the wrong person earlier in the day or something. He'd been ratted out, and now he was caught. The feel of coarse rope pulling tight around his legs was enough to send a shock of pure panic through Gojyo, memories of a filthy basement and unimaginable pain flooding back.

The redhead forced himself to breathe: Jien wasn't going to want to torture him…probably. He wasn't going to end up half-dead and alone again, as long as he didn't try to put up too much of a fight.

It was for that reason that Gojyo allowed the men to lift him into the car with only a token struggle on his part, realising that his best chance for survival was cooperation.

It looked like the game was up: apparently, his brother had caught him again. And now he was being dragged back like a lost pet, sandwiched in the back seat of a car between two heavily-muscled gangsters.

'_Great. __Just__ great.__'_

* * *

"He's here."

"Take him to my office, and be sure to unbind him," Sanzo snapped into the phone before cutting the call. He had a feeling that this was a bad decision: that he didn't actually need a second, and that the man he had coming in was going to be more trouble than he was worth. But somewhere along the line, this had seemed like the best possible option: he didn't know why, and he didn't particularly care to explore his decision in detail, but a reluctant part of him realised that this was something he had to do.

When he had finally given some thought to finding a second, there had only been one name that came easily to mind. He'd tried to struggle against the idea, but it had all been futile: as much as he hated to admit it, and he _wasn__'__t_ going to admit it to the man himself, there was only one person whom he trusted to not stab him in the back.

That man was now sitting in his office, waiting.

Stomping his cigarette butt out under the sole of his dress shoe, Sanzo composed himself as he made his way from the back garden. He was _not_ in any hurry to see his 'guest', and he attributed the slightly warm feeling deep inside him to a nicotine rush.

It was the only acceptable explanation.

Quickly approaching the closed office door, Sanzo didn't pause as he slammed it open and stomped inside. He stopped once he was inside, though, looking at the back of the redheaded figure seated before the desk.

"Oi, asshole! I don't know where I am or why I'm here, but if one more person puts their hands on me I'm going to fucking _kill_ them." Gojyo didn't turn around as he ranted, so Sanzo allowed himself a small smirk. The man was definitely back to being the boorish prick he had been when they'd first met.

"If you don't want me to put my hands on you, then why are you forever molesting _me?_"

There was a moment of silence before Gojyo's chair clattered noisily to the ground, the man standing and spinning with a blur of red.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," Gojyo gasped out, eyes wide. "S-Sanzo…holy _fuck,_ man, I mean…shit!"

Expecting the assault, Sanzo remained still as he was wrapped up in tanned arms. He made no move to return the gesture, but he didn't try to stop the other man, either. Gojyo felt…familiar, which was something that Sanzo was unused to after being thrown to the top of a strange criminal organisation. He couldn't say that he hated the sensation.

Sanzo only pulled away when Gojyo obviously went to kiss him, turning his head so that the lips only connected with his cheek. Detaching himself from the long arms, Sanzo pointed to the upturned chair.

"Sit."

As Gojyo slowly complied, Sanzo made himself comfortable in his usual seat and looked the redhead over with a critical eye. There were no visible marks on the man's skin, apart from some faint exhaustion circles under his eyes: part of Sanzo was thankful for that. It meant that he didn't have to expend any effort teaching his men not to overstep their marks.

"Sanzo, I…"

"Shut up," the blonde interrupted. "I have a proposition for you."

Gojyo looked confused, which was probably to be expected. The man had effectively been kidnapped and taken quite a way from his home: a little uncertainty was allowed in such a situation.

"Over two weeks ago, I was made the leader of this organisation. In essence, I'm to this city what your brother is to his. But I've got assholes riding me about bringing in a second-in-command, and I'm offering the position to you."

Gojyo was just staring blankly, and it was beginning to piss Sanzo off. The man usually had a mouth that never closed, so why was he suddenly deciding to be quiet? It was irritating.

"_Well?__"_

"I…uh…Sanzo, why _me?_ I have no idea how any of this works." Gojyo bit at his bottom lip, nervous over something. Sanzo rolled his eyes.

"You think I don't realise that? I don't care what you know about gangs, I just realise that you won't shoot me if I turn my back."

Gojyo's brow furrowed in concentration, and Sanzo wondered if he'd misjudged the situation. He'd figured, considering how Gojyo usually acted towards him, that the man would jump at the chance of staying by his side. _Especially_ after all that shit about being in love.

Finally, Gojyo looked up. Sanzo caught the sly grin spreading across the man's face and felt a flash of apprehension. This couldn't be good.

"So what you're saying," Gojyo casually asked, "Is that you trust me with your life?"

"_What?__"_ Sanzo snapped. He quickly fell into outrage at the situation, and so was caught slightly unawares when Gojyo suddenly vaulted onto the desk, scattering miscellaneous junk everywhere as he slid forward to land right in the blonde's lap. The chair rocked dangerously, stopped only when Sanzo shot a hand out to grab the edge of the desk.

Strong hands cupped Sanzo's face and drew his gaze upwards to meet expressive red eyes. Gojyo smiled sincerely, and the blonde was shocked to actually recognise the affection shining from his expression.

"You know I love ya, right? Course I'll take your job. I'll learn what I have to, as long as I can stay with you." This time, Sanzo allowed Gojyo's lips to capture his own, his hands lightly coming to rest on the redhead's waist as a hand moved from his face to the back of his neck.

Gojyo's tongue flicked at Sanzo's lip and was given entry, Sanzo not entirely sure why he was putting up with a lap full of idiot…

But he just couldn't find it in himself to push Gojyo away.

* * *

*******Alright! I thought I may have been rushing things a little here, but how the fuck can you rush things in a 52-chapter story? We didn't need more solitary moping, we needed a reunion! It might feel like a flimsy pretence to get them back together, but despite Sanzo's denials, do you really think he needed a _good_ excuse to drag Gojyo back to him?

Anyway, there may only be two or three chapters left now. We're hitting the end of the road for this little story of mine…thank fuck. I've been going for over 15 months now, and it's all because I know there are people out there reading this. So thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, favourited and/or alerted, this is for every single one of you.*******


	53. Chapter 53: We Bargain

*******Second last chapter! I'm planning on having this story finished by Festivus, so look out for the final part on Friday. It'll be a Festivus Miracle! Or, if you're not down with the cool kids, I guess calling it an early Christmas present will do.

Also, I just noticed that this is chapter 53. Appropriate, certainly.*******

* * *

Gojyo buried a hand in Sanzo's hair, tilting the man's head a little so he could deepen the kiss as much as possible. There were so many emotions running through him at once: shock, excitement, happiness, love and arousal, to name a few.

All his frustration and anger had melted away the moment he'd heard that dryly sarcastic tone, and now he wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to stop touching the gorgeous man. But, if he understood Sanzo's offer right, there would be no more random disappearances for the blonde's part.

He didn't understand why Sanzo was here, or how he'd apparently landed himself in charge of an entire gang, but it didn't matter: Sanzo was _here_, and he'd asked Gojyo to stay with him. Of all the scenarios Gojyo had imagined for their reunion, that was something he hadn't even dared to hope for. He'd expected to spend days- if not weeks- trying to convince the blonde that they really should be together.

But here he was, practically tongue-fucking Sanzo's mouth as he lightly ground his hips against the other man. The blonde had found _him_, and practically even admitted that he trusted Gojyo over all the other possible seconds he could have chosen.

The redhead couldn't have asked for anything more. Well…maybe _one_ more thing…

Reluctantly pulling away from Sanzo's mouth, Gojyo leant forward to scatter quick kisses along the blonde's pale neck, lightly sucking up a mark or two. Sanzo was obviously trying to maintain his composure, but his faint panting and the bulge that Gojyo could feel under his ass were clear giveaways as to the blonde's _real_ feelings.

"_Sanzo_," the redhead husked out against the other man's neck, "I want you to fuck me."

"Not here," Sanzo said, his hands gripping tighter around Gojyo's waist as he tried to lift the man off him. Gojyo wasn't having any of that, and he bit down right on the junction of neck and shoulder. Sanzo let out a staggered gasp that he quickly tried to hide, and Gojyo smirked as he released the skin and pressed his lips to it.

"Yes, here. _Please_, Sanzo, just bend me over your desk. You know you want to…" Letting his hand trail down from the back of the blonde's neck, Gojyo ran his fingers down Sanzo's dark button-up until he could cup the man's groin, gently squeezing and rubbing the slowly growing bulge.

"C'mon," he wheedled again before taking Sanzo's lips with his own. When the blonde pulled back, Gojyo frowned at him before reaching in to start unbuttoning Sanzo's shirt. The man slapped his hands away, making Gojyo grumble from the back of his throat.

"Shut up," the blonde muttered as his hands slipped beneath Gojyo's thighs. It was a little disconcerting how easily the blonde lifted him back onto the desk, but Gojyo _had_ lost a bit of weight since his time in the hospital. He made a mental note to find a new gym, but he didn't really care about that when Sanzo pushed him down onto his back, the blonde leaning over him and shoving the bottom of his T-shirt up.

Gojyo grabbed the desk and scooted himself to the edge, spreading his legs so that Sanzo could get closer. The blonde took up the invitation and bent down to quickly press his lips against Gojyo's abdominals, his pale hands easily undoing the man's jeans. He stepped back so that the redhead could close his legs, and the pants were soon dropped beside the desk.

Gojyo propped himself up on one elbow, his free hand sliding along where his stomach had been bared by his pushed-up shirt. He gently grabbed his hard cock, letting his fingers splay along the length as he teased himself.

The look in Sanzo's purple eyes was positively scorching, making Gojyo smirk with satisfaction. He spread his legs wider again and let his dick fall against his stomach so that he could beckon the blonde man closer. Sanzo pushed his own pants and underwear to the ground but didn't move forward; instead, he crouched down and began rustling through one of the desk drawers.

Gojyo sat up properly, letting his legs dangle off the edge of the wood as he tried to figure out what Sanzo was doing. When the man straightened up, a familiar square package and a sealed bottle of lube in his hand, Gojyo couldn't help but laugh.

"Well, _somebody_ came prepared!"

Sanzo looked down at him, an unimpressed look on his face. "The previous owner of this place was a fucking pervert. He left shit like this everywhere."

Gojyo grinned as he rested back on his elbows again, drawing his long legs up until his feet were pressed against the edge of the desk. "I guess I should thank him, then."

"Unlikely," Sanzo muttered. Gojyo didn't get the chance to ask anything more: Sanzo was as quick and efficient in his movements as ever, his dick covered in latex before Gojyo could try to figure out what the statement had meant.

Even though he was expecting it, the redhead gave a slight shudder at the feeling of cold lube against his entrance. Two slick fingers were slowly sliding into him, readying him for what that he'd been wanting for weeks. Gojyo bucked into the intrusion, but that only caused Sanzo to pull away; letting out a frustrated groan, the younger man let his back fall against the desk, his head tipping slightly over the far edge of the wood.

More slightly wet sounds told Gojyo that Sanzo was slicking up his erection, and a smile spread across his face as he felt his breath start to come faster. It wasn't very often that he'd ever _wanted_ to be fucked this badly, and he was revelling in the feeling.

Sanzo was definitely one in seven billion.

A hand slid under his hip, and Gojyo tilted his lower half up as much as he could. The desk wasn't _quite_ the perfect height for this sort of thing, but it didn't feel too awkward as the head of Sanzo's cock slipped inside him, Gojyo letting his head fall further back as he gasped at the sensation of Sanzo sliding home.

It was obvious that Sanzo wanted this as much as Gojyo, if the way he barely paused before pulling back and setting up a steady, pounding rhythm was any indication.

With a low moan, Gojyo reached back to grab the edge of the desk in an attempt to keep himself as still as possible. He wanted to feel every thrust and slide, without his body moving away from Sanzo's at the slightest movement. He started to go for his cock with his other hand, but slim fingers got there before he could and he groaned in bliss.

It had been so long since he'd had sex that Gojyo soon found himself losing control, the need to come nearly unbearable. He was holding the edge of the desk in a white-knuckled grip, mouth wide open as grunts and groans filled the air. Forcing his eyes open, he looked over at Sanzo and felt his cock jerk even more: the blonde's eyes were closed, a drop of sweat rolling down the side of his face that flew away when he dropped his head forward.

One of Gojyo's legs made its way onto Sanzo's shoulder, his body instinctively pushing back into every thrust. The fingers sliding up and down his dick suddenly paused, only to tighten ever so slightly. Gojyo's back arched away from the desk as he let out a loud groan.

Gojyo was done: Sanzo's hand kept gently squeezing his erection as he came, the warm liquid spilling across his groin and the blonde's fingers. Panting hard, Gojyo relaxed bonelessly against the hard wood, barely able to feel the slight ache in his back. His fingers let go of the desk's edge as Sanzo kept fucking him, the redhead now unable to do anything about the way his body slid with every thrust.

That was stopped when a slightly sticky hand grabbed his hip, Sanzo holding him down as the man's thrusts got harder and faster. Slight ripples of pleasure were running through the redhead's body, quiet moans coming from him as he simply laid back and took it.

Typically, Sanzo stayed nearly completely silent; the only warning Gojyo got before the blonde came was the fingers on his hips tightening, Sanzo slamming home one last time as he exhaled loudly and slumped forward.

The blonde stayed that way for a few moments more, and Gojyo could barely open his eyes. He felt Sanzo move away, could hear the man moving around, but by the time he could sit up the blonde was firmly positioned in the office chair. Shifting forward, Gojyo bent until his elbows were resting on his knees, his hair falling over his eyes as he grinned up at the rather dishevelled-looking blonde.

"Holy shit," he breathed out, reaching forward to ask for the cigarette that Sanzo had just lit. The blonde stared at him for a moment but reluctantly handed it over, pulling out another for himself and lighting that, too.

"I suppose you could say that," Sanzo responded in a measured voice that made it sound like he'd only been doing paperwork, instead of fucking another man over his desk. Gojyo just laughed, taking another drag on his cigarette and running a hand through his slightly sweaty hair.

"I fuckin' love you, blondie."

"So you've mentioned."

* * *

Dokugakuji was frustrated out of his mind. No one at all seemed to know anything about where Gojyo had gone, let alone where Sanzo had disappeared to. He was getting worried about his brother: this city was barely safe for anyone, let alone ex-prostitutes who were related to powerful men. It had been almost a month since he'd last seen Gojyo, and that wasn't a good sign.

He had all his most trusted subordinates on the lookout, but it was a big place. They couldn't be everywhere at once, and Gojyo seemed to have an uncanny ability to stay hidden. Hopefully that meant he could stay away from anyone who meant to hurt him, as well.

The sound of his intercom crackling to life stopped Dokugakuji's pacing, the man walking over to sit at his desk.

"Mister Dokugakuji?"

"Yes, Yaone?"

"Your two o'clock is here."

"Alright, send 'em up." Dropping his head into his hand, Dokugakuji sighed. Most days, he felt more like an office worker than a hardened criminal. He had so many different areas to look after that he rarely got to find a good fight anymore. But with the constant threats of takeovers and looming rebellions, he ended up in meeting after meeting about all number of random things.

He could barely remember what this current appointment was about. Everything was rolling into one big mess of boredom, broken up only by the occasional bout of worry. At least that added a bit of flavour, he supposed.

There was a knock at the door, and Doku raised his head. "Come in."

Two men entered the room, their suits well-tailored and neatly pressed. Doku figured that they must have been fairly high up the chain, then: grunts were never that well-presented. At least that meant his time probably wasn't going to be wasted here.

He gestured to the seats in front of him. "Sit down."

The men obeyed, staying silent for a moment before one spoke up. "We're here on behalf of the leader in Arnhem. It's a city about…"

"I know where it is," Doku growled, his patience quickly being tested. His organisation was already big enough: if they were going to propose something that would give him _more_ boring shit to deal with, he wasn't going to say yes. The man who had been speaking cleared his throat, continuing on with his speech.

"Yes, well…the boss wants to make a truce, of sorts. Something to make smuggling between states a little easier on the both of you."

"I don't get much trouble as it is. If your little boss can't handle his own business, what makes you think I want him draggin' me down?" Maybe he'd been wrong about this not being a waste of time. Smaller groups were always trying to ride on his coattails, and he'd learned early on that it was rarely worth indulging them. Besides…

"And who's this boss of yours, anyway? Why would we need a truce when we're so far apart that we never interact?"

The other man, who had been silent so far, spoke up. "The boss doesn't want his identity getting out if you refuse his offer. He just took power, so he's been staying fairly underground."

Doku levelled a hard stare at one man, then the other. He couldn't see any reason to take this offer, and he told the goons as much. They glanced at each other, then one sat forward in his chair.

"The boss knows where Gojyo Sha is."

Quick as a flash, Doku was standing with his palms flat on the table.

"Is this _blackmail?_ If he's hurt, I swear to _God_ that I will tear your fuckin' piece of shit city apart."

The men remained calm, but Doku felt his anger growing. Before he could reach breaking point, though, a photograph was slid across the desk. "Your brother is fine. He isn't being held against his will, he's just been spotted around the city and, due to his prior association with our boss, the two have met up. This photo was taken two days ago."

Glaring at the men a second or two longer, Doku reached for the photo. There was no question that the man was Gojyo, and to Doku's relief he looked healthy and happy. He was still a little suspicious, though.

"How do I know this isn't gonna be an ambush? Walking into unknown territory to meet some mysterious boss seems like a bad idea to me."

"You can decline if you want, it'll be no skin off the boss' nose. But your brother is reluctant to come back here, so if you want to make sure he's okay, you'll have to meet with our leader."

Doku thought for a few moments before sitting down, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Leave a number down at the front. I'll call you with my answer by tomorrow evening."

The two men rose, bidding him goodbye before leaving quietly. Doku looked down at the picture that was still in his hands, guilt hitting him hard as he looked that the cheerfully cheeky grin Gojyo was giving the camera.

He'd fucked things up so badly with his brother: was it worth risking a trap if it meant that he could make peace with the man he just kept losing?

* * *

Sanzo sat alone in a small, well-lit meeting room. Dokugakuji and Hakkai were expected to arrive anytime soon, and so he quickly gave his surroundings one last look-over. He had no interest in fighting either man, and so he had chosen to hold the meeting in one of his organisation's office buildings. The room was unassuming and relatively safe: there was very little chance of setting a trap in this particular place.

He didn't want this to end in a shootout…for once. If only because Gojyo would become _unbearably_ pissy if Sanzo was to put a bullet between his brother's eyes.

The door finally squeaked open, and the blonde sat up in his chair. The entrance was to his left side, the room set up so that neither party was sitting with their back to the doorway- it was a safety thing.

Sanzo stared across at the bland wall, only turning his head when Doku growled out in surprise.

"_You.__"_

"Dokugakuji. Hakkai," the blonde greeted calmly. He didn't need to say anything else as the men made their way to sit across from him.

"Where's Gojyo?" Doku asked immediately, leaning across the table in a way that Sanzo assumed was meant to be intimidating. No matter how many times the older man did that to him, though, it never seemed to work.

"He was asleep when I left. He should be joining us soon, though."

Doku opened his mouth to say something else, but he cut himself off when Hakkai's hand came to rest on his shoulder. The older man sat back, glaring across the table at Sanzo.

"It's certainly a surprise to see you, Sanzo. Do you mean to tell us that you are the new leader who sent those messengers to us?"

The blonde rolled his eyes. "No, that was the fuckin' tooth fairy. Of course it was me, and my offer still stands."

"And which offer is that?" Doku asked, sounding much more calm than he had been earlier. Sanzo could feel the weight of his revolver tucked into his jacket, but so far it was looking like he might not need it.

"My offer of a truce between us. We don't have to trade, I would just prefer it if I didn't have to put up with Hakkai trying to kill me on top of all this other shit."

"Why should I agree to that? You've betrayed me even more now that you've fucked off to some other gang." Doku's tone was taking on the dangerous growl again, and Sanzo locked glares with him. Even when Hakkai softly spoke up, neither man looked away.

"Dokugakuji, I think you should accept. Sanzo will be in no position to bother us out here: if I recall correctly, this organisation's influence is nowhere near great enough to affect us."

"Or, I could shoot him now and be done with it."

"I don't think that's the smartest idea you've ever had," Sanzo interrupted. Doku actually growled at him this time, and the blonde felt a little flash of pleasure at getting to the other man so easily.

"And why, pray tell, is that? Not like you could be hiding any backup in this dinky little room."

Sanzo kept his expression neutral, ignoring Hakkai as he stared Doku down. "My second wouldn't be too happy if you _tried_ to kill me."

"You think I give a shit about your second? Remember, you were _my_ second for a long time. That puts me above both of you."

Normally, Sanzo would have been firing off warning rounds by this point. Today, though, he was feeling unusually charitable. Well, charitable for _him_. This was all because of a favour that Gojyo had asked him for, in the end.

"I don't think so," Sanzo trailed off as he heard footsteps. The sound of the doorhandle turning made him feel a little smug, and he sat straighter in his chair.

"Dokugakuji, my second has finally gotten off his lazy ass and joined us."

The door slammed open, a tired-looking Gojyo wandering in and casually making his way to Sanzo, bending down to kiss the blonde on the cheek. Sanzo shoved him into his chair, watching as Gojyo looked up with a genuine smile on his face.

"S'good to see ya, Jien. You too, 'Kai,"

Doku's eyes were wide, the man looking from Gojyo to Sanzo and back again before his scowl came back. "You're his _second_? Gojyo, that's ridiculously fucking dangerous! You'll be killed!"

The redhead's smile fell, and he tilted his head so that his messy hair was hiding his expression. For his part, Sanzo was content to just sit back and watch: he wasn't about to get involved in Gojyo's problems.

"It's not like I do much, what with Mister I-Can-Do-Everything-Myself over here. Besides, Jien, you think I can live with you looking over my shoulder all the time? Here, I'm away from everyone that I used to know, and I _can_ look after myself, y'know."

"He's just going to throw you away once he's bored! _Then_ what the Hell are you going to do with yourself?"

Gojyo glanced to the side, a smirk appearing on his lips. Leaning across, he threw his arm around Sanzo's shoulders; the blonde ignored it. "Hey, he was the one who brought me here. And do you reckon he'd have put up with me for this long already if he wasn't going to keep me around?"

Sanzo rolled his eyes and sighed quietly. Gojyo was oversimplifying everything, as usual. He looked across the table to see Hakkai watching him with barely-veiled amusement, and he sneered at the brunette.

"Dokugakuji, maybe we should discuss this privately." Doku scowled at Hakkai's suggestion, but eventually lifted himself from the seat and stalked outside. Hakkai rose too, smiling pleasantly.

"Please excuse us, we'll be right back." Sanzo waved them off, watching the door swing shut again. He wasn't at all surprised when he saw Gojyo move from the corner of his eye, the redhead sliding onto the table so that he could sit directly across from him.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" Gojyo practically whined, slouching forward. He reached out a hand to play with a few strands of Sanzo's hair, but the blonde lightly slapped it away.

"Because you're an annoyance," he answered dryly.

"Says the most tolerable guy in the world," Gojyo scowled playfully. "Ah…what're you gonna do if he says no and tries to start something?"

Sanzo thought for a moment, even though he believed the answer was pretty clear already. "He won't. He'll agree to everything we ask."

Gojyo just stared quizzically at him, raising one red eyebrow.

"You have him wrapped around your finger, idiot." And that was the truth. Sanzo fully believed that Dokugakuji would do almost anything for Gojyo, especially now that the redhead couldn't be dragged back to him so easily. He was planning on taking advantage of that fact.

"What? As if."

"Hn." Brushing Gojyo off, Sanzo looked towards the door. He could hear snatches of low conversation, and although he couldn't hear too much, it didn't sound like the pair were going to bust back in and attempt to shoot him up.

Gojyo, seemingly annoyed at being ignored, started rubbing one of his legs against Sanzo's. The blonde stared at him, unimpressed; but before he could get too irritated and push the man away, the door was reopening. Gojyo glanced over his shoulder, slipping back into his seat and propping his legs up on the table.

When the other pair were seated, there was a tense silence that made Gojyo feel like he was going to go crazy. But, like Sanzo had told him to do in situations like this, he kept his mouth shut. He trusted the blonde to be able to handle this.

Finally, after what felt like hours of quiet, Dokugakuji stood up. "We accept your offer of a truce. Stay out of my way, and I'll stay out of yours, kid."

Sanzo quirked an eyebrow at the condescending nickname, but didn't say anything. That was when Doku slammed his palms down on the table, glowering at his former employee. "And if my brother gets hurt, I will tear your head from your shoulders with my bare hands, got it?"

"Good luck with that," Sanzo replied sarcastically. The blonde jerked in shock when he was slapped across the arm, and he whipped his head around to glare at Gojyo. The redhead either didn't notice, or was _very_ good at ignoring his lover.

"Jien, seriously, it'll be fine. I'm…I'm _happy_ here, with Blondie. And thank you for agreeing to call off the hit."

Although Doku wasn't actually smiling, Sanzo could see the affection in his eyes, and it was a look that he certainly wasn't used to seeing on the man. It was a little weird, actually.

"I just hope you know what you're doing, Gojyo." Doku shook his head and straightened up. Hakkai stood too, prompting the redhead to join them. Sanzo stayed sitting: he didn't care for being polite. Gojyo walked around the table, first shaking hands with Hakkai and then moving to face his brother.

The two siblings looked at each other for a moment, Gojyo extending his hand. Doku slowly took it, a small smile growing on his lips as Gojyo grinned widely. The redhead yanked his brother towards him, wrapping his free arm around the taller man's shoulders. It took a moment for Doku to respond, but he clapped Gojyo on the back and stayed there for a few moments more. The redhead eventually pulled away, still grinning as he stepped back and sat on the table again.

"Stay safe, both of you," Hakkai said as he turned towards the door. Doku nodded in agreement, his eyes darting towards Sanzo for a moment before going back to Gojyo. He looked like he was about to say something, but he obviously changed his mind and just followed Hakkai to the door.

"I'll see you sometime soon, Jien," Gojyo promised as he watched the men leave. His brother looked over his shoulder, smiling softly.

"Yeah, you should."

The door closed quietly behind them, Gojyo sighing and running a hand through his hair. He spun around on the table to face Sanzo, crossing his legs beneath him as his smile grew again.

"Thank you for doing that, Sanzo. Seriously, I know you don't really like Jien, so thanks for tryin' to clear the air between us all."

Sanzo wasn't quite sure how to answer that, and so he fell into his default response: a quiet "Tch".

Gojyo just laughed, getting off the table and standing next to Sanzo's chair. The blonde glanced up at him, and Gojyo winked; violet eyes widened as the redhead sank to his knees, moving between Sanzo's legs and grinning up at him.

"Guess if you won't take my gratitude, I'll just have to force it on you."


	54. Chapter 54: We End

*******Here we are: the end! It's been fun, but I'm moving onto bigger and better things…well, hopefully better and probably not bigger (150k+ words is fucking ridiculous). For the last round, I'd again like to thank everyone who has given me even the smallest bit of their time. It's your fault this got so out of hand…in the best possible way.

Anyway, enjoy this shorter epilogue of sorts, and I'll see you again sometime, I'm sure. Happy Festivus!

The song lyrics are from Turbonegro's 'Sell Your Body (To The Night)', the original inspiration for this story.

* * *

**One year later**

* * *

_Hey boy, _

_You wanna get ahead?_

_You gotta give some head,_

_Might end up dead instead._

* * *

Sanzo shoved open the club's door, making his way through the crowd and ignoring anyone who tried to talk to him. Their stupid problems could wait: he needed a drink.

Arriving at the bar, he came to stand right behind a dark-haired man who seemed to be trying rather hard to hit on the bartender; rolling his eyes, Sanzo hauled the man from his barstool by the back of his shirt and unceremoniously dumped him on the ground.

Taking up the now-empty spot, Sanzo looked up just in time for the redheaded bartender to lean across and peck him on the lips. Gojyo pulled back with a seductive smirk, quickly turning around to grab a beer from the fridge and slide it across to the blonde.

He let his gaze linger on Sanzo for a moment longer before moving on, serving the gathered crowd and harmlessly flirting with everyone. He had to admit, he was enjoying this. He'd off-handedly mentioned to Sanzo that he missed being around clubs- though he wanted nothing to do with prostitution- and a few days later, Sanzo had quietly handed him partial control of this particular place.

The existing manager still handled the administrative aspects of the club, but Gojyo was able to oversee the actual day-to-day operation. He truly enjoyed being around the nightlife again, even being happy to step in as a bartender when the crowds got a little too heavy.

Gojyo had been so fucking happy with that. Sanzo might never have _said_ that he loved the redhead, but Gojyo could tell it was there. He didn't care about some stupid words when it was all there in the blonde's actions, if he knew where to look.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Sanzo stand up from the bar and walk off with his beer, heading in the direction of the soundproof office. Gojyo immediately picked up the pace of his serving, wanting to get done as quickly as possible so that he could sneak off as well.

Although he usually tried to indulge his customers, he didn't have the time or patience for the flirtatious back-and-forth that he tended to make. A few people looked slightly disappointed that the attractive bartender wasn't showing them much interest at all, but it wasn't as if anyone currently on the floor of the club had a chance with him.

He was perfectly happy with the pissy bastard who was probably skulking around in the office by now.

Glancing around as he poured together a Jack and coke, Gojyo saw that the crowd at the bar had lessened. It seemed like the two usual bartenders would be able to handle things from now on, so the redhead handed over the drink and took the money with a dazzling smile.

He tapped the nearest worker on the shoulder, the brunette woman turning and smiling at him.

"You wanna head off?" She asked with a wink. Obviously, she'd seen Sanzo sitting at the bar. Grinning, Gojyo nodded.

"You guys should be right on your own, yeah?"

"Of course! You've helped us out enough, you really don't have to work with us."

Gojyo pulled the tie from his hair, letting it fall out around his shoulders as he walked to the end of the bar. He already knew that he didn't have to work the bar at the club, but he enjoyed interacting with people and feeling _useful_. He may have been Sanzo's second, but as the blonde did most things himself, Gojyo hadn't had much to do before this club had come along.

Still, the past year had been better than his previous two-and-a-bit decades combined. He'd been slowly learning the finer details of running a major criminal organisation, though one area he'd never been involved with was prostitution: that hadn't been his own decision, so he could only assume that Sanzo was purposely keeping him away from there.

He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that: on one hand, Sanzo was interfering with his life, and that could be considered annoying and invasive. On the other hand, Sanzo was interfering with his life, and that meant the man cared enough about him to try and keep him safe and happy.

Considering the fact that Sanzo portrayed everything through his actions rather than his words, Gojyo assumed it was the latter option. In any case, he wasn't going to get mad at Sanzo for stopping him from getting involved in something that he'd grown to loathe. He wanted nothing to do with the whoring rings that were scattered around the city, and Sanzo had apparently made sure of that.

A wide smile on his face, Gojyo picked through the crowd of drinkers and dancers until he made it to the office stairway. The bouncer standing nearby nodded at him, Gojyo returning the gesture as he walked up to where Sanzo was hiding. Keying in the door code, he stepped inside and looked around for a familiar head of blonde hair.

He wasn't surprised to see Sanzo standing by the large one-way window, the half-empty beer bottle dangling from his fingers. Walking over, he stood behind the blonde man and wrapped his arms around the man's chest, breathing in the scent of Sanzo's hair.

"Long day?" He asked, feeling Sanzo lean into him the tiniest bit.

"Just some trouble from a group of little upstart pricks."

Gojyo chuckled and tightened his grip on the other man. "Guess someone got their asses kicked, then?"

Sanzo didn't answer, but Gojyo was fully aware of how his lover worked. Very few people ever walked away when they crossed him; Gojyo was fairly certain that he himself was one of the only people who'd ever pissed Sanzo off and come out of it fine. Or, in his case, _better_ than fine.

He felt Sanzo turn around, the blonde frowning slightly as he tried to loosen the hold that Gojyo had on him. The taller man was having none of that, at least until strong palms pressed against his chest.

The feeling of Sanzo's hands on him still gave Gojyo goosebumps, but he allowed the man to gently push him away. He knew when to not antagonise the blonde, just like he knew when he could get away with being overly pushy. Though, admittedly, the former happened a lot more often than the latter.

The redhead watched as Sanzo walked over to the office's desk, setting his beer done before turning around again. Gojyo met the other man's gaze, smirking at him; but his mouth gaped open when Sanzo stalked back to him, the man's hand fisting in his shirt and pulling him into a heated kiss.

Gojyo let his hands run down Sanzo's sides, across his back, down over his ass; Sanzo's right hand stayed in the redhead's shirt, but the left gripped the back of his neck. Their tongues tangled, Gojyo moaning in the kiss as he squeezed Sanzo's ass.

After a few more moments, the blonde pulled back, his hands letting Gojyo go and moving to start undoing the buttons of his shirt. Gojyo pulled his own black shirt off, shaking his hair out as soon as he was free.

He grinned down at Sanzo, admiring the man's pale, toned chest with his eyes and his fingers.

His expression turning affectionate as he explored the blonde's bare torso, Gojyo grabbed Sanzo around the waist and pulled him closer. "Love ya, Sanzo."

It was only because he'd learned to read Sanzo so well that he could see the tiny smile on the blonde's lips, the frown lines on the man's forehead softening for once. His voice was deep and smooth when he spoke, but Gojyo could hear the well-hidden amusement in it as the blonde's eyes stared right into his.

"Yeah."

* * *

_Hey boy, _

_But you can make it right. _

_So fix your hair alright,_

_And welcome to the night._


End file.
